Entwined, Always
by CiCi-Arts
Summary: Persephone Black, a nihilistic and numb teen, is forced yet again to go to a new school by her 'drill sergeant' father. Dulvey High is where all the hick kids go, and where she meets an outcast called Lucas Baker. She instantly takes a liking to him. By a stroke of luck, she and Lucas are assigned a lengthy school project together and his standoffish, scowling nature only intrigues
1. The Day We Met

_**M**_oving out to the sticks wasn't exactly what Persephone Black wanted. If she had it her way, she'd still be living in Chicago. Of course, her father had other plans.

Persephone sat in AP Physics 2, playing with the peeling bat and skull stickers on her binder, almost glad to be at school. It was a place that felt oddly cathartic, as crazy as that sounded. Though she didn't know anyone and sat in an unfamiliar place, she could breathe without being surrounded by boxes and boxes of crap. She instead distracted herself with schoolwork, not once needing to cross paths with 'drill sergeant' Dad, Ronald. Ever-invasive thoughts of him kept her from resting too easily, though. At least her new school enveloped her in peace (and the muddy, scummy smell of swamp).

Dulvey High School — the place where all the hick kids seemed to go. Not nearly as prestigious (pretentious) as Northside College Prep, but Dulvey was the best she could get on two week's notice, ala the much-impulsive Ronald. Her high school career would be over soon anyway, thank god. Winter hadn't quite arrived by the time she'd moved and classes were probably easier here, so she wouldn't be losing much progress. Lucky her — Ronald's castigation knew no bounds when it came to slipping grades.

The teacher, Mrs. Tompkin, got her attention by announcing a project where students would be working in pairs. Her shoulders dropped and she rolled her eyes. Pairs. Ugh, she did _not_ need to make nice with her classmates, not when she only had a few months around these no-name hicks. She tuned out Mrs. Tompkin calling partners by last names until she heard her own.

"Miss Black and Mister Baker."

Baker… What was his name again? Lewis? Laurence? Something like that. She glanced around the room but no one in particular stood out to her — not that she really knew what to look for.

"All right," said Mrs. Tompkin curtly, "everyone find your partner. I'll be handin' out guidelines, so start plannin'."

The sound of scraping chairs followed. Students stood to pair up and Persephone's eyes darted every which way. Who in the hell was Leon Baker again? Or whatever his name was. While everyone else got together, she noticed one guy sitting by himself. He had his book open, seemingly waiting for his partner to find him while putting as little effort into reciprocation as possible. She approached with her book in hand.

"Baker?"  
"Yep," he replied shortly, not looking at her.

She observed him as she took her seat on the opposite side of the desk. The boy had probably the worst hairline she'd ever seen on a high schooler and damn did he have a thin face.

Mrs. Tompkin came by their table, dropped two project guidelines before them, and went on her business. Persephone took half-hearted notes as she read, the chattering all around making his silence more noticeable.

"So, uh," she started, tapping her eraser against her book. "Name's Persephone."  
"Lucas," he replied absently, scrawling in his notebook.  
"_That's_ what it was," she said, smacking the table. "I thought it was Lewis or Leon or something — but don't worry, I'll remember."

Lucas said nothing. She fixed her glasses and examined his notebook. He didn't write anything about their assignment. Instead, he sketched something electronic-looking, naming and annotating certain aspects of it. Is this really what she had to work with? Someone who didn't care about the project? Great, she'd be pulling most of the weight. College here was going to be horrible, wasn't it? If she had to put up with this kind of shit — this Chicago-ass lack-of-giving-a-shit shit — it sure would be. She wasn't looking forward to another decade of schooling, not if she'd have to put up with _people_.

"What?" Lucas demanded.  
Oops, she'd been staring. She cleared her throat, eyes wandering away. "Nothing."  
"Expectin' me t' take this project seriously 'r are ya just gawkin'?"  
She shrugged. "Honestly, I think we could get by half-assing this whole thing."

Not a smile or a smirk or any kind of reaction to her joke outside of a deadpan glare. Once more, her eyes rested on her book.

The project was due to be done in about a month, just before winter break. Mrs. Tompkin advised the pairs to get together and work as often as possible in order to get the project done in time. Fuck, she would have to get all friendly, lest she face Ronald's wrath — the cold shoulder, grounding, more chores, the works. God forbid she doesn't get an A.

After a silent note-taking session between her and her partner (aka, she took notes while Lucas doodled), class ended and students cleared out. She followed behind Lucas in the hall for a moment before reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Yo, partner," she said, forcing an amiable smile.  
He turned and looked at her, scowling.  
"See you tomorrow. We can really get started then."  
He grunted, then turned and left.

What a practiced sneer. She shrugged his attitude off and continued down the hall, looking at her schedule. Physics was her last class that Tuesday so she made her way to the front doors to walk back home, passing through other seniors leaving for their half-day.

Persephone needed to consult her phone's map several times to make sure she didn't walk in the wrong direction. The country roads all looked the same. At least the houses tended to be different, unlike Chicago with its same three styles of home — apartment, townhouse, and ubiquitous cookie-cutter single homes. The differing houses here didn't help her complete lack of motivation to memorize the area.

Along the roads to her neighborhood, foliage abound. Louisiana's wild and tangled wetlands reeked, especially given how far south as she was. Definitely a swamp, and a warm one at that. This late in autumn, she would've expected at least a chill, but she sweat like mad and the muggy air stuck her clothes to her. At least she'd have respite in her air conditioning.

As she approached her new house — up its trimmed lawn, clean concrete walkway, and all the other bullshit that made houses home to boring people — she couldn't help but observe it with disdain. While she'd never felt connected to her old home or anyone living near it, any sense of familiarity had vanished, never to be gotten back. It took her a moment to get her key into the lock properly; upside down at first. She eventually succeeded and stepped inside. Her mom had passed out on the sectional in the living room. Persephone shook her head and walked past to the kitchen, talking to herself (as if her mother would care if she heard anyway).

"Your doctor keeps telling you not to mix booze and happy pills but you just don't listen."

She started on dinner for the evening, equanimity allowing her to think back on the events of her day; her project, the schoolwork, and homework due the following days. Too much shit to do, probably not enough time. When she peered to the clock, she felt thankful that Ronald wouldn't be home for another several hours. She grimaced just thinking about him.

_"This new job'll really put me on the map,"_ is what he'd said about a week before they'd moved.

She figured he cared more about being 'put on the map' than his own family. It wasn't the first time she'd watched him switch jobs, and thusly houses. First had been Cincinnati, then Yorkville, Geneva, Pontiac, before they'd settled on Chicago for a long while — she guessed that wasn't good enough anymore. His wife and only daughter be damned, suck it up and move to a different state. She slammed a pot onto the stove. What she wouldn't give to let him know how she really felt.

* * *

_**A**_t his locker the next day, Lucas swapped out his textbooks, preparing for Physics after lunch. He didn't know if he should be looking forward to it or not. Somehow, by a stroke of luck, he'd been partnered off with a girl, and one who wasn't a complete idiot or a vapid priss or ugly. Glasses weren't typically his thing, but she made them work really damn well. Once she learned who he was, though, she wouldn't want anything to do with him. Like everyone else. They'd all grown up around him since elementary school and knew to stay away. She would learn, sooner or later.

Something leaned against the lockers beside him but he ignored it. Probably Oliver or Janine or another jackass — at least he thought, until he heard Persephone's voice.

"Hey."  
"You don' have t' come visit me at my locker," he said shortly, shoulders tensing.  
"No, but I saw you and I don't know anybody else."

Lucas felt her prying and slammed the door, turning to look at her under his hood. She wore a red plaid dog collar with a skull pendant, and all black otherwise — do people from the city always wear weird shit?

He spat, "Y'all stupid? Wanna be seen with Crazy Lucas — ya gotta be."  
"Crazy? You don't seem crazy. Maybe a little eccentric, but I don't mind."  
"Trust me, you have _no_ idea."

He turned and left her. Of course, escape wasn't that easy. Persephone's footfalls were right behind him until she caught up to his side.

She said, "Well, maybe gimme a chance to find out for myself."  
"Ya wanna know what you'll be in fer? _Fine_. Just listen t' everyone as we walk by n' see whatcha think."

Persephone kept close to him as the discourse grew; "who's that with Crazy Baker?", "she'll prob'ly wind up dead by the end a' the week", "ew, look who's with Crazy Lucas", "dumb bitch must have a death wish". His schoolmates talked shit during their whole walk to the cafeteria, particularly from one punchably loud mouth.

"'Course he'd have ta go fer the new girl! Crazy Lucas doesn't stand a chance with anyone else!"

"That's Oliver," Lucas muttered, facing forward and clenching his bagged lunch. "Maybe y'all should hang out with _him_ instead."  
"You mean Mr. Loud-and-Obnoxious? He doesn't really seem my type."

She'd be one of the few girls at school who thought that. Maybe he'd actually lucked out getting her as a partner? Nah, too optimistic.

He went through the cafeteria and sat at his table in the corner, alone. Or he would be, if Persephone hadn't insisted on taking a seat beside him. Why the hell she wanted to follow him, he didn't know. A temptation to tell her to fuck off rose in his chest, but he released these words in the form of a deep sigh instead. People grabbed chairs from his table to move them to other tables instead, despite the rest of the cafeteria being packed.

"Less than five minutes," he said as he opened his lunch bag. "Y'all think ya can handle this fer the rest a' the school year?"  
"Whatever." Persephone shrugged. "I grew up in Chicago, dude, d'you really think these hicks'll spook me?"

Was life really gonna tease him? Cute, smart, _and_ funny? This couldn't end well.

Persephone unloaded her lunch — green apple, banana, carrot with the leaves still on top, peanut butter and jelly sandwich folded in parchment paper, granola bar, and a small salad in a glass container. Goddamn. What was she, a hippie or something? She squinted at his food.

"Chicken sandwich and chips? No wonder you're so skinny."  
"Says the one eatin' like a rabbit."  
She laughed softly. "And yet I still can't get these extra fifteen pounds off. Here—" She placed her granola bar near his food. "—take it. I don't really like granola bars anyway."  
"Y'all don' gotta feed me, I'm not a charity case." He pushed it back to her.  
She slid it across the table to him. "Oh, just take it. Stubborn."  
"Hypocrite."

He didn't push the bar back this time, though ignored it for a little while before picking it up and unwrapping it. Why the hell not? He was always hungry after lunch. When he side-eyed her, he noticed her smiling between bites of her sandwich. Part of him wanted to wipe that stupid grin off her face, yet another part… Well, he tried to ignore that part of him that thought she looked cute.

Hands slammed down on the other side of the table, rattling the contents atop it. Lucas rolled his eyes, not needing to look to know who did it, but he glanced up anyway to glare in his stupid fuckin' face. Oliver leaned across the table, his palms flat atop it as he smirked at Lucas. One of Oliver's friends slouched behind him, fiddling on his phone.

"What, Baker?" Oliver started. "Blackmailin' the new girl ta get her ta sit with ya? That's low, even fer _you_, Crazy."  
He continued glowering at him.  
Oliver's eyes shot to Persephone. "Look, I know you're new, but that's no reason ta be hangin' out wit' Crazy Lucas. You're way too cute fer that." He winked.  
"Bet that line gets all the girls," said Persephone, deadpan.  
"Ooh, got yourself a feisty one, eh?" Oliver snickered. "Lucky. Name's Oliver, babe. Remember it when ya get tired a' Crazy here." Oliver glanced around their table and said, laughing, "She gotchu eatin' like a girl?"

Oliver reached toward the unwrapped granola bar and Persephone's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist tight, thumb pushing into his palm to bend his hand back.

"So eating healthy is girly now? Please."  
Oliver ripped his hand away from her then rubbed his wrist.  
"Look," Persephone said, "I'm new here and just trying to get by. Don't ruin my school year by being an ass-clown. Now, if you don't mind letting us eat in peace."  
Oliver stood up straight, chest puffed out. "Ya better learn your place here, city girl."

With that, he and his friend walked away. Lucas, his brain finally working from Persephone's unexpected reaction, had to wonder if all city girls were fuckin' crazy.

"Yer out yer damn mind," he said, looking at her from under his hood.  
"Well, judging by all the rumors, that means we'd make a good team, don't it? Besides, I'm not afraid of that jackass. Have you _seen_ people from Chicago? It's an absolute madhouse."


	2. Solidarity

**_T_**he following day, Persephone didn't feel like she'd made any progress with Lucas or their project. She didn't see him all day, not even when she stopped by his locker that morning. Half-day today; she wouldn't see him for lunch, either. Their project would suffer due to their lack of communication, and she wasn't sure the kinds of stakes he had riding on it but if they were anything like hers, neither of them could afford to fail. She sighed as she grabbed some things from her locker. Ronald would be so pissed if she didn't land an A.

Persephone heard a thud against the lockers beside her and peeked around the door to see who it was. "Surprise, surprise, it's Lucas, come to visit me."  
"Half-day, right?" He asked, back leaning against the locker. "Ain't got Physics on Thursdays."  
"Yep, gonna head home for lunch."  
Lucas cleared his throat with an awkward cough. "So, uh… Mind if I walk ya?"

He wanted to walk with her now? After having seemingly avoided her all day? He was an oddball — and she kinda liked that.

She kept her cool. "Aww, how sweet. Did you wanna hold my hand, too?"  
"Don' milk it, city girl."  
She laughed softly. "I'd love it if you walked me home."

She stayed beside him as they headed out, trying not to snicker when he almost dove for the front door and awkwardly held it open, eyes looking anywhere else but her. She simply thanked him and enjoyed his silent company. Rumors spread as he walked with her through the crowd of other seniors: "look who's about to lose his virginity", "dead girl walkin'", "she's gone to the dark side", "that psycho's gonna eat her alive".

She ignored them as best as she could — in a strange way, their words intrigued her. They made her want to know more about 'Crazy Lucas', if he even was crazy, and why people seemed to dislike and be afraid of him. When they were away from school and along the sidewalks through the townhouses nearby, Lucas spoke.

"Yer definitely out'cher mind, lettin' me walk ya — I know y'all can hear what people're sayin'."  
"Oh, let them talk. Chicago's rumor mill got so bad that they had to have several presentations on bullying and suicide — whole damn school was forced to go each time."  
"Some of what they say is true," Lucas said somberly. "Most isn't, but some is."  
"Like…?"  
"Keep hangin' with me and you'll find out."  
"Oh, is that a threat, or an invitation?"

Lucas's mouth twitched into what Persephone gleaned was an almost-smile. Seemed it was, since he put his hood up soon after, blocking most of his face aside from his nose. They walked for a while longer without speaking, giving her a chance to try and enjoy the scenery near her neighborhood. Birds chirped especially loud from across the way, where a swampy bit of land faced the homes; trim and well-kept, but still very wild. The area reminded her of a story:

Portage Park, a large forested place where she'd found a dead body alongside a few of her self-defense classmates. They never found the killer and she would never forget the way it felt to poke the body with a stick — and the smell of the corpse when a braver classmate pushed the body with her foot. A morbid story for her morbid friend. She hoped it would get some kind of a reaction out of him — a smile, a chuckle, a quizzical look, maybe a story of his own.

Nothing. She guessed the rumor mill got to him.

"Don't worry about what those dumbasses say," she said. "People will call you crazy just 'cuz they don't understand you. People called me crazy 'cuz they thought I was dissecting cats. Don't ask how that rumor started. I may not like cats much but I sure wasn't dissecting the strays."

Nope. Still nothing. Not a single word, not a glance. A challenge, this one — she couldn't break through to him. He seemed distracted.

* * *

**_L_**ucas repressed a sigh. Now that he was out with her, rumor mill fresh in his mind, he had second thoughts. Should he really be getting all buddy-buddy? He wouldn't care about the rumors if she was some random asshole, only around him because of their project. But she wasn't. She wanted to talk to him, share food, be friendly, and damn did she have some interesting stories (and a nice ass). He wasn't used to someone like her. If nothing else, walking her home gave him time to ponder and think about their relationship — and Oliver, and his shitty classmates. After the project, he'd let her go. Rejection wasn't an option. Not from her.

His thoughts were cut short when they came upon a walkway. He followed her up it, stopping when she turned and smiled at him.

"Thanks for walking me home." She walked backward up the step to her porch.  
"Don' get used to it," he said, hoping he sounded snippy enough to drive her off.  
But it only made her chuckle. "I won't. You be safe going home now. Oh, and before I forget…"

She ripped a piece of paper out of her backpack, grabbed a pen, wrote something down, then handed him the piece of paper. A phone number was written on it.

No… Not just _a_ phone number, _hers_. He looked back up at her, seeing her smile and chocolate brown hair surrounding her face, so close to him that he could smell her shampoo. Holy shit were those glasses cute. Before he realized he'd even done it (and with no real recollection how), he'd written his number down, only noticing the done deed when he held it out and gave it to her.

"Hit me up sometime," she said, giving him a sly look and a smirk before opening her door and stepping inside.

He left before the door could fully shut. Well, that went exactly the opposite of how he'd planned. He headed home, mind still reeling over her phone number clasped in his fingers and the look she'd given him. It would be a long walk now that he'd missed the bus, but at least he'd have that memory.

Friday, and Lucas had to go elsewhere to eat his lunch — namely, he stood inside one of the unoccupied lockers near the back-end of the school. He'd successfully avoided Persephone all day but Physics fast approached and they'd be forced to interact. His face fell when the bell rang, signifying the end of lunch. Could he just stay in that locker for the rest of the day? Or, preferably, the rest of his life? Unfortunately, no, the school kept an annoyingly close eye on him and any deviation from his schedule could spell trouble. He didn't have any other choice.

Swallowing his pride, and the rest of his sandwich, he exited the locker into the swarm of teens going to their next classes (garnering a few odd looks from people who saw him leave the locker). He made his way to Physics, trying not to think about her (and her glasses and her ass and her— _stop it_).

Persephone was in the classroom already, other classmates paired off. She waved to him when he came in, patting the long desk in the back she'd reserved for them.

"Hey, partner," she said as he approached. "Got one of the cool desks for us."

He sat across from her, pulling out his book and slamming it open to one of the pages in the 400s. She looked at him with a cocked eyebrow but didn't comment on it.

She started. "So, we got forty minutes—"  
Which was about 40 minutes too long.  
"—to figure out what we wanna do."  
"I don' give a damn."  
She scratched her forehead and muttered, "Helpful."

He pulled out his notebook and opened it to a blank page, getting back to work on his various creations. Just as he decided which one to start on (three ideas had been going at once), he heard Persephone's phone go off. Though his hand kept drawing, he covertly looked at her from under his hood and saw her texting. Persephone sighed hard about whatever she'd seen.

"Miss Black, you better not be on your phone," warned Mrs. Tompkin.

She returned her phone to her pocket and turned back to Lucas, their eyes meeting before he had a chance to look away.

"My mom," she explained shortly. "She only ever texts me when she's about to have a breakdown, or she wants me to go to the store. I really hope it's the latter, I don't wanna go home and deal with her again." She changed her tone to a mocking, high-pitched one. "_Ooh, I hate my life, your dad's a jackass, this was all a mistake._" Then back to normal. "I swear she thinks I'm her therapist or something. I know Dad's a jackass but he's the only reason she and I aren't homeless."

That was… a lot. Before he could articulate any thoughts, it seemed his silence made her continue.

"And it's nice to know that I was a mistake. If she hadn't lied to my dad, she never would've gotten pregnant, and she never would've wound up like this. It's all her damn fault, but can I tell her that? _Nooo_, she has a conniption and suddenly _I'm_ the bad guy."

Her fingers tapped the desk irritably. Well then. He wasn't sure how to react to that. He'd stopped pretending to draw and just stared in what he could only describe as awe, all the while her tapping grew more furious and her brow furrowed ever harder.

"Sorry," she said abruptly. "Next week we'll really start."

Then she left the classroom and stormed off. A deep breath of relief audibly escaped him. Thank God. It had been getting too difficult just to be around her. Curiosity about her home life set in and he had to will these thoughts away. Her home life didn't matter. It _shouldn't_ matter. But why the hell couldn't he stop thinking about her?

* * *

Friday night, and he still had a hard time getting Persephone off his mind. He sighed, laying on his bed in the dark, hands behind his head and thumbs twiddling. The image of looking up at her, the sun haloing her features, remained a permanent fixture in his brain now. Why did he want to walk her home? What had he been thinking? No, clearly it'd been his other head thinking, otherwise he wouldn't be in this mess.

He got a text on his phone, hearing its vibration rumble through the wood of his nightstand. His arm slumped over to grab it and he checked who it was.

"Fuck," he muttered — Oliver, who else would it have been?  
_'talking to ur girl haha'_

God, he was a douchebag. Lucas rolled his eyes. Good, maybe Oliver would take her and then he wouldn't need to worry anymore. But Persephone ending up with an asshole like Oliver? Hell no. Then again, Persephone ending up with an asshole like _himself_ wasn't a very good deal, either. Not wanting to seem hesitant, he sent a text back.

_'don't care'  
'she says she wants to meet up with me'_

Like hell. He shot over to Persephone's contact info and started up a new message. But he stopped. What was he going to write?_ 'Are you talking to Oliver'_ seemed like a very stupid thing to send as a first text. He rubbed his temple, staring at his phone in disbelief. What in the fuck was he doing? Was he going to tell Persephone not to go see Oliver? He didn't want her to, but wasn't his plan _not_ to get close to her? What better way than letting Oliver get the girl? But that thought disgusted him.

* * *

**_M_**eanwhile, Persephone's feet throbbed. Friday evenings had always been spent cleaning the house and the recent move wouldn't get her out of the habit. Boxes unpacked and put away, floors cleaned, junk left behind from the previous tenants trashed; now she was almost done making dinner. As she stirred the pot of potato stew, her phone went off: a text, from Oliver.

"Fuck," she cursed sharply.

Oliver wasn't as dumb as he looked. He'd stopped her in the hall just after she'd left class and blind-sided her by asking for her number. Then he'd wanted to 'check to see' if he'd typed her number down correctly, so he'd called her then. She'd felt pressured to give him her number and in her rush to see her mother (who'd been perfectly fine, of course), she'd caved to him. So now she's paying for it. What exactly was 'it'? She didn't know, but she was paying.

His text read, _'hey wyd'  
'What do you want?'  
'just checking up on u, how's ur mom?'_  
Weird; still, nothing impressive. Anyone paying even a little bit of attention would've heard her mention Terry. She'd simply been sure that he'd only stared at her boobs or spaced out when they'd talked._ 'She's fine, like always.'  
'cool, wanna meet up?'_  
There it was. She replied, _'No.'_

She rapidly stirred her stew, splashing some of it onto the stove. Everyone in Chicago had known to stay away from her — "she might cut you up in your sleep" (god she'd love to do that to some) — but then move to some swampy hick town and suddenly everyone wants to talk to the new girl with her weird accent. And the boys. They were probably the worst part.

_'u sure?'_ His text read. _'was gonna buy u dinner'_  
Seriously? There were so many ways in which she wanted to tell him to fuck off._ 'Don't make me kick your ass.'  
'damn ur savage' _

Don't ever forget it.

A few minutes passed before her phone went off again. If that was Oliver, she was going to flip. But it was Lucas, with a simple, _'hey, what's up?'._ Her heart fluttered, his blue eyes and strange ways coming to mind. Maybe she'd spoken too soon. Sometimes, the boys were the best part.


	3. Our Giant Slingshot

**_B_**y that Wednesday, Persephone still couldn't believe she'd had to skip Monday and Tuesday to look after Terry, whose drug taking was getting out of hand. Now she and Lucas barely had any time to get their project done. Mrs. Tompkin seemed to have picked up on this and approached them during class.

"You two aren't gonna get your project done in time if you don't hurry," she said sternly. "I want you two ta start workin' on your project even when you're not in class. Most of the other students have been visitin' each other at home — I suggest you start doin' the same."

When Mrs. Tompkin walked away, Persephone sighed. She propped her elbows up onto the table and talked a lot with her hands. "Look, dude, I gotta get a good grade here or my dad's gonna flip shit. I'll let you do whatever the hell you want in your notebook for the rest of class if we go to your place and figure this out on Friday — soonest I can give you. Deal?"  
He took so long to respond she was about to repeat herself (in a very irritated manner), but he replied before she could. "Deal."

* * *

After a particularly nasty time keeping Terry out of trouble, Persephone managed to make it through the rest of the week. She got on the bus with Lucas that Friday afternoon. Halfway down was an empty seat and he took the window side. She already heard the rumors spreading around in harsh whispers; "she's still alive?", "who'd even wanna be seen with Crazy Lucas?", "goin' ta his house? She's so fucked".

Persephone joked, "Wow, you're a real celebrity around here."  
"So," said a voice from the seat behind them. "It's true. You do got'cherself a cute li'l girlfriend."  
"Fuck you." Lucas pulled out his phone and put his earbuds in their jack.  
"Relation?" Persephone questioned.  
She smiled at Persephone, her hair brown, short, and messy in her face. Then she held out her hand. "Name's Zoe and I'm this knucklehead's sister."  
She shook Zoe's outstretched hand — a firm shake from both their ends. "Persephone. Only child, thankfully."  
Zoe chuckled. "Haven't seen you on the bus since you started at Dulvey."  
"I don't normally take the bus, but Lucas and I really need to make headway on this project." She nudged him but he was listening to music on his earbuds.  
"Aww," Zoe said, "how cute."  
Lucas still seemed to be able to hear them, though, as he flipped Zoe off over his shoulder.  
"He's a real sweetheart, ain't he?" Zoe asked.  
"Oh, go back t' chattin' with Judith," Lucas spat.  
Zoe rolled her eyes, smirking. "If he gives you any trouble, you just lemme know — I'll set 'im straight." She tossed Persephone a wink.  
"Noted."

Persephone and Lucas sat in silence during most of the bus ride. She found it hard to start up a conversation due to his earbuds, which left her to her thoughts. What exactly was in store for her? The bus drove through an unfamiliar area; residential, with some bland single homes. As she looked over him out the window at all the plain, boring houses, she wanted to sigh, imagining _him_ in a plain, boring house. That would be so unbecoming. He was far too interesting to live in some normal house.

For the rest of the ride, Persephone made various comments on horror games she'd played recently, unsure if Lucas was actually listening or not. But she was going to rant about the goriest ones she could think of if he wasn't going to stop her (Dead Space was a fun staple). Still, he kept to himself the whole way there, only glancing at her now and again. Whatever his glances were supposed to indicate, she couldn't figure out. Intrigue? Listening? Annoyance? Who knows.

When the bus slowed and stopped, Lucas got up and Persephone did the same.

"Ya ain't gettin' off here?" He asked Zoe.  
"Nah, going to Judith's place for the weekend. Give Momma n' Daddy a kiss for me."

Persephone followed Lucas off the bus, glancing around as she walked down the aisle. People snickered at them behind their hands. She didn't care much, though — let them talk.

"'S 'bout a mile walk t' the house," Lucas said as they stepped onto the ground.

The neighborhood turned from pavement to dirt fairly quickly, thus leaving behind the woodsy homes in favor of spacious marshland. Lucas walked with his hands deep in his pockets, hood up, slouching. For a while, they hiked in silence, letting her enjoy the mid-afternoon sun and fresh air after being cooped up on that bus.

"Y'all ain't gonna let it get t' ya, are ya?"  
"What, you mean our classmates being assholes? I don't care what they think. I'm more interested to know what your mom and dad think."  
He glanced at her from under his hood and, from what little she could see of his furrowed brow, he was giving her a quizzical look. "'Bout what?"  
Persephone felt her cheeks flush and tried to will the warmth away. "You know… About me."  
"What d'you care?"

She was just as perplexed as him. What started out as forced interaction turned to intrigue then to something else entirely. Why indeed did she feel nervous now, of all times? She'd always heard about needing to make a good impression but that advice never stuck with her until she realized she'd be meeting Lucas's _parents_. She looked toward the sky, taking a deep breath and trying to think about something else.

Clouds were rolling in, it seemed. The greenery grew denser all around her, too, making it relatively dark. Thick vines and tree leaves lined the path. Ronald would go berserk if so much as a single leaf fell upon his walkways. Here, though, with wildlife along that road — rabbits, a small flock of deer, and all the bugs singing around them — it was hard to imagine the Baker family would care about the colorful assortment of leaves. The breath-taking walk halted at a large metal gate that encircled the front of Lucas's house.

Holy shit.

It was huge, like two houses put together, with a barn on the far left. The main house was two stories tall, old but well-kept. She'd never been in a house so enormous before, nor had she ever seen one up close. Cities didn't often have big houses and she'd only ever grown up in townhomes or duplexes her whole life.

Lucas unlocked the main gate, let her pass through, then shut and locked it behind them. He took her up the walkway to the porch, which seemed to wrap around the right side of the house. The well-furnished porch had a swinging bench and lush potted plants. There was so much to take in that she was sure she'd been staring, open-mouthed, like a complete idiot. She barely noticed the stairs up the porch until she almost tripped over them. Up the few steps had her facing the front door. Lucas picked another key on his ring, unlocked the door, and pushed it open, allowing her entry.

"Shoes," he said. "Take 'em off, put 'em t' the side there."

Persephone complied quickly, shoving her shoes on the rack to going back to gaping at her surroundings. On her right was a tall archway, and through the opened double-doors (_double-fucking-doors_) was a large room with a balcony at the top of the stairs — two sets of stairs, it seemed, on either side. Well, she'd been right that a plain old boring house could never have been as Lucas as something like_this_.

"Ma!" Lucas called (scaring her a bit with how it jarred her from her thoughts). He kicked his shoes off. "I'm home!"  
"I'm in the kitchen!" A muffled voice called from down the hallway.  
Lucas looked to Persephone, jerking his head toward the hall. "C'mon, let's go."

She walked behind him, observing rustic wooden end tables along the side of the hall that held framed pictures of the family. One of Lucas looking directly at the camera, smiling, caught her attention. Had she ever seen him smile before? Now that she thought about it, she hadn't. And oddly enough, she made a mental note of making him smile, at least once.

They rounded the corner, which led down another hall lined with open windows on their right. Outside of them lay a sprawling backyard, with a trailer sitting right in the middle of the swampy ground and a few huge trees scattered about. They passed an open closet on the other side and she couldn't help but stare as she went; normal stuff like jackets, a hamper, boxes of things, and bags of gloves and scarves and random assortments (it could've been empty and she probably would've stared all the same).

Finally, around the last corner, she saw two open doors on the left and a staircase on the right. They walked in through the first door where a middle-aged woman stirred a large pot of food on the stove. Persephone could smell it — sausages and tomato sauce, possibly jambalaya, though she was not well-versed in southern cooking.

"Hey Momma," Lucas said.  
The woman turned to him and smiled brightly, her dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. "Afternoon, hon." When her eyes met Persephone's, she cocked her head a bit. "And who might this be?"  
"Ma, this is Persephone. My classmate. She needed t' come over so we could work on that project I told you n' Dad about."  
The woman dried her hands on a dish towel then approached with her hand held out. "Nice to meet you, dear. My name's Marguerite."  
Persephone took her hand firmly and shook it. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I hope I'm not imposing by just showing up. Thought he would tell you I was coming." She nudged Lucas, receiving only an eye-roll in response.  
Marguerite laughed politely. "Oh, not at all, dear, I'm glad to see Lucas found a nice lady friend."  
"_Classmate_," Lucas corrected.  
Marguerite pursed her lips slyly, winking at Persephone. "Who just happens to be a lady friend."  
"Yeah, yeah, she's a girl," Lucas dismissed. "I'll be down fer dinner. Me n' Persephone are gonna study up in my old room."  
"All right, dear, just keep your door open."  
"Jesus, Ma," Lucas responded as they walked away. "Would ya like t' make it anymore embarrassin'?"

Persephone subdued a giggle and followed her skinny classmate up the stairs, round several twisting corners, before they reached their destination — the house was absolutely massive. They entered the door on their right which contained a room essentially split in half. The right side looked girlier with barren lavender walls, while the left side seemed a bedroom fit for a young boy; his childhood had been plastered all over the pale green walls and atop shelves in the forms of golden trophies, medals, and ribbons. She didn't bother asking permission to pick some up and take a closer look.

"Nosy type, I see," said Lucas.  
"Sure am. But if I wasn't, how would I have found out you're so good with technology?" She read the trophy's engraving — 2nd Place in Junior Engineering; another said 1st place; then another said he'd won 1st in Advanced Engineering. "If not for our AP class together, I would never've thought you were so smart."  
"Thanks," he said tersely, dropping his backpack to the ground and retrieving his Physics book. "We doin' this 'r not?"  
"Sorry," she apologized with a bit of a titter, getting her own book. "That didn't come out right."

He cleared a dresser — by literally brushing everything off the side with his arm — and pulled it over to the bed, using it as a rather tall desk. She took the vanity chair from the girly side of the room and moved it across from him. The dresser gave them barely enough room to have their textbooks open and make notes at the same time.

"So we're supposed to have something physical to show," she said.  
"I don' give a shit what it is."  
"Good, me being the leader here will probably make this easier."  
He rolled his eyes, something he seemed well-versed in.

After some one-sided brainstorming, Lucas returned to being uninvolved and doodling in his notebook. She observed him for a moment as he added onto the electronic she'd seen the first day they'd met. He kept referring back to a weapon of some kind — an automated slingshot, for whatever reason. When he flipped back to it, she quickly interjected.

"That," she said, finger in his book, "is our project."  
He looked up at her, gazes mingling before he replied, "I like that idea."  
"Sweet." She wrote it down on a clean sheet of paper. "So, automated slingshot it is."

That's when ideas really got rolling. He was responsive and talkative afterward. They discussed the logistics of their project — how big it would be, what it would launch, and tinier details like pulleys and circuitry they'd need to make its activation timed. Of course, they decided it would need to be huge.

"Maybe we can make it launch a fifty-five-gallon drum," said Lucas.  
"We'd need a damn truck bed as a base for that."  
"Dad's got an old truck we could re-purpose. Still drives, too. We'd probably need a lotta metal for the handle n' some'in' stretchy fer the band."  
Persephone wrote all of this down. "Mom's got some nylon tights. Those bitches are strong, I'll pick up a whole bunch."

Details were hammered out for a while before there a knock on the door interrupted them. Marguerite stood at the threshold with an affable grin and two cups of lemonade.

"How's the project comin'?"  
"Good," Lucas said, all his excitement gone in just a few moments. "Thanks fer the lemonade."  
"Not a problem." She handed them the cups.  
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Baker."  
Marguerite put a friendly hand on Persephone's shoulder. "Oh, you can just call me Marguerite."  
"You got it."

Marguerite moved closer to the dresser, looking at the notes Persephone had taken who then filled her in on the important details.

Marguerite said, "I'll see if I can get Jack to lend you two the truck."  
"Thank you, ma'am. And this lemonade is delicious."  
Lucas was distracted by his phone, sipping his drink. "When's dinner?"  
"Soon, hon, don't worry. Should only be a half hour. Oh, I can't wait for you to meet my husband, Persephone. He'll be so pleased."  
"Momma," Lucas groaned.

She smiled at Persephone then excused herself from the room.

"Your mother's very nice."  
"Yeah, yeah," he dismissed, putting his phone away. "So about this project."

And just like that, his excitement returned. She could relate. Whenever Terry came around, she was never too happy about it, either. She briefly pondered whether or not that was a teenager thing, then returned to listening to Lucas's rather impassioned talk over the project, mingling the unmistakable sound of rain beating against the house.

Half an hour later, they were both called down to eat.

"Don't worry, I won't stay for dinner," she told him as they left the room, garage doors opening loudly in the background.

Lucas remained quiet as he walked her into the dining room, through the second door beside the kitchen (yet another ridiculously cool double-door). Through the serving window, she spotted Marguerite in the kitchen gathering up dishes. Lucas headed inside to put their empty cups in the sink and then help her make the table.

"Will you be joining us for dinner, dear?" Marguerite asked as she placed dishes down.  
"Oh, no ma'am, I don't think I should…"  
Heavy footsteps came up from the garage across the way and a deep male voice sounded. "Boy, does that smell good."

From around the corner, she saw a balding man with a thick, grey beard walk into view. He kicked his boots off at the top of the stairs.

"Jambalaya, can't wait," he said pleasantly, then his eyes darted to her. "And who's this?"  
"Dad, this is Persephone," Lucas said, putting down the last bit of dinnerware. "My project partner."  
"Nice to meet you, sir." She put her hand out to him and he took it. His hand had to be twice the size of hers.  
"Good to meet'cha. Jack Baker."

They released each other and Marguerite set the pot of jambalaya on the table.

"You should've heard 'em, Jack," she said. "Lucas sounded so excited when they were talkin' about their project."  
Lucas groaned again and put his hood on.  
"That so?" Jack put a hand on Persephone's shoulder. "Polite, smart, an' my boy seems ta like ya. You'll be staying for dinner, won'chu?"  
"I really don't wanna be a bother."  
"It's no bother," Jack said, looking down his glasses at her. "You're very welcome at our table."


	4. Birth of Pers

**_S_**omehow, she wound up sitting next to Lucas at the dinner table, holding hands with him and his mother. The entire table hung their heads and Marguerite said grace, which made her squirm a bit. She'd never had to say grace before and awkwardly announced the 'Amen' part after everyone else had. Luckily, no one said anything and instead spooned the jambalaya out for themselves. She sat and fiddled with her fingers, noting the sausage and shrimp inside the dish. When she was the last one with an empty bowl, Marguerite frowned.

"What's wrong, dear?"  
"Uh… I don't eat meat, ma'am."  
Jack looked at her with knitted brow. "Not even shrimp?"  
"Nope. Seafood is meat."  
"Always knew you ate like a rabbit," Lucas said.  
"Hood down, boy," Jack demanded.  
Hood went down.  
"Oh," Marguerite said, clearly trying to be understanding. "Well… Don't you worry none, I have some steamed vegetables I can make for you." She stood.  
"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to get up from your dinner."  
Marguerite smiled. "It isn't right for us to eat while you go hungry, dear."

So she was forced to sit there even more awkwardly as she waited for Marguerite to return to the table.

"So what _do_ you eat?" Jack asked.  
Lucas chimed in, nose crinkled. "Raw carrots."  
She shot Lucas a nasty look. "I eat more than just carrots. I made myself some three-bean chili last night. And I can make an out-of-this-world pizza pocket."  
"So you eat cheese?" Jack questioned.  
"No, sir."  
"Where are you from that you don't eat cheese on your pizza?"  
"Well, Chicago, but plenty of people eat cheese there. I'm just not one of them. And there is cheese on my pizza, it's just alternatives, made from cashews and stuff."  
Lucas piped up dryly, "Weird."  
She gently kicked him under the table.  
Marguerite rounded the corner, chuckling. "I wouldn't mind trying your pizza pocket one day, Persephone, if you'd grace us with some."  
Jack nodded, adding, "Yeah, sounds, er… Different."

Probably noticing her squirming and fiddling, Marguerite asked her, "So where did you learn to cook, dear?"  
"Self-taught. My mom's not exactly… Reliable. So I've been having to cook ever since I was a kid. Graduated from cereal and microwavable garbage to actual food eventually. Plus, looking things up on the Internet helps."

Marguerite asked some particularly boring questions from what Persephone surmised was a strange girl sitting in her kitchen — like what she used instead of egg in her baking or what she ate besides pizza pockets and salads. She told them how Terry once woke up and drunkenly ate an entire tray of cookies Persephone had made for Ronald's birthday.

"After that, well, those cookies looked a lot better going in, if you know what I mean. 'Course, maybe that was the booze."  
"Well, that's," Marguerite paused, probably doing a mental search for the right words. "A lovely story."  
"Not if you ask my dad."  
Marguerite then stood. "Oh, I'd better get those veggies, they're certainly done by now."

Silence at the table. Great, her story was a little too nasty for dinner. If they thought the story was gross, they should've been there when it happened. Jack had a rather funny look on his face as he stared down into his food. She wasn't used to entertaining people for dinner and it didn't seem to be her forte, but Lucas's tightened lips made it seem as though he was trying not to laugh.

Marguerite walked back in with a bowl of mixed vegetables soon after, putting it in front of her.

"Thank you," she said with a forced smile.  
"I should get some good stuff to put in the fridge for when you come over next," Marguerite said, sitting.  
Jack cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention. "Speakin' of, you an' Lucas should tell me 'bout that project you been workin' on."  
Lucas said, deadpan, "It's a giant slingshot."

* * *

Persephone had a particularly not filling dinner that evening of steamed carrots, broccoli, and peas, and a warmed can of spinach. All good stuff, topped with some freshly ground salt and pepper, but not the most filling of foods. To the best of their abilities, she and Lucas had tried to explain their idea, and Jack'd had a good laugh when Lucas asked to use the old truck, but eventually agreed.

She helped the family clean up the table after dinner, bringing all the dishes to Marguerite and offering to wipe things down. When she got out her phone to take a look at the time, she noticed how late it was. 7:38 pm. Ronald was off work. Great, he'd been expecting her back earlier than that. She hoped he wouldn't be too pissed. Rather than taking the bus home, which had been her original plan, she tried to call him, but didn't have good service inside the home. Lucas had peeked over her shoulder.

"Might get better service on the porch," he said, then took her down the hallway.  
"Sorry for getting dragged into staying," she said. "I know you didn't want me to."  
He shrugged. "Whatever."

She stood out on the porch with him, watching a heavy rain pour from beyond the awning. The wind whipped cold that evening, making her shiver and giving her goosebumps. She quickly called Ronald but it went straight to voicemail. She called again and again to the same, and she tried to call Terry as well, figuring it would be a lost cause. Except, this night, she actually got a response.

"Heeeey, baby," Terry cooed. "Where're you?"  
"I'm at a friend's house. Where's Dad?"  
"Dunno, still at work, Ah think."  
"It's seven-thirty, Dad gets off work at six."  
Terry giggled. "Meybeh he'ssstayin' late."  
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Can you call him?"  
No response.  
"Mom."  
Nothing.  
"_Mom_."  
Light snoring.  
"_MOM_!"  
Still just snoring.  
"Oh, goddammit." Persephone hung up.

"What's the problem?" Lucas asked.  
"Mom's a dumb drunk and Dad's a no-show."  
He opened the door for her and let her back in the house.  
"Guess I'll have to catch the bus," she said, not looking forward to the long trek.  
"I ain't lettin' you walk in that rain, Pers."  
She turned to him, head cocked. "Pers? What am I, a handbag?"  
His face turned red. "Okay, know what? Yer walkin'."  
"Aw, come on, I'm kidding, it's cute. Pers. I could get used to hearing you call me that."  
She didn't think his blush could turn any darker but that did it, she could even see it in his ears.  
"So what's your plan, big guy?"  
Lucas cleared his throat, gaze finally breaking from her. "Was gonna drive ya myself."  
"I couldn't make you drive out in that storm."  
"Yer not makin' me, I want to."

He led her back to the kitchen where Jack and Marguerite were finishing the dishes together.

"Ma, Dad, I'm gonna drive Pers back home."  
"All right, son," said Jack. "You be careful out there, was rainin' pretty hard by the time I got home. An' bring the truck back in one piece."  
"It was very nice meeting you, Persephone," Marguerite said sweetly.  
"Absolutely," said Jack. "Y'all come back any time you want, young lady."  
"Thank you. Nice meeting you both."

She and Lucas headed down the stairs to the garage, which held a two-seater truck and a family SUV. He reached into his pocket for his keys, using one of the key fobs to unlock the doors to the truck, which was a little old and fairly low to the ground, making it easy to climb into.

Her seat felt a bit lumpy and a dusty scent permeated the air. Seemed the family tried to hide the smell behind tree air fresheners and a plug-in on the vents. The smell from the plug-in released when Lucas turned the truck on and cool air blew through. He promptly shut the air off, then tuned into his phone to play metal on the radio, keeping the volume low. Persephone wondered if he kept the music low so they could talk, but he didn't initiate conversation at all until they reached the front gate.

"Gotta unlock the gate, hold on," he said.

Once the gate was locked back up behind them, he made the drive down the dirt road, splashing through large puddles that she could feel made them hydroplane.

"Fuck, it's so flooded," Lucas grumbled.  
"Are you sure you wanna drive me home? There's so much rain out here."  
"We should be fine," he said, though he didn't sound particularly sure.

In the residential area about a mile from the house, the roads had flooded out. Thunder and lightning cracked along the skies, rain so heavy that it drowned out the music on the radio. The road they were going to turn onto was so flooded that Lucas turned around to try a back road he knew of instead. Getting cold inside of the car, she fiddled with the knobs and turned the heat on low, shivering. The back road he tried had also flooded through, water so high that it engulfed the tires of the cars parked along the street.

Lucas strummed his fingers along the steering wheel. "A' course, all these roads are goin' downhill."  
"The buses aren't even running," Persephone said, seeing the bus stop she'd planned on taking. It was near the scheduled time for it, but no one in their right mind would be waiting at the stop in this weather.  
"What do you wanna do, then?" Lucas asked.  
"Drop me off here and I'll swim home," she joked.

Lucas laughed. _Finally_, after her best efforts and her greatest jokes, she got him. It was a light chuckle but a hearty one, and a sound that made her want to melt with glee.

He said, "Now that I gotta see."  
After they finished laughing at her stupid joke, she said, "Maybe we should just head back. Think your folks'll let me crash on the couch or something?"  
"Prolly. 'Long as you don' tell more vomit stories."

They laughed again and he turned the truck around to make the treacherous drive back home, which was slightly uphill thus slightly less flooded. Lucas drove one-handed, other arm across the center console's armrest. Heavy metal still played in the background.

He asked, "Like metal?"  
"Sure, it's some of my favorite music."  
"Bitchin'. Know this band?"

They got on the subject of music, exchanging band names and their genres. Lucas liked industrial and thrash metal the most and she revealed her love of melodic death metal. But when she told him some of her favorite metal was folk, Lucas laughed.

She laughed, too. "Shut up, folk metal is awesome."  
He shook his head, smiling. "Whatever ya say, Pers."  
She glanced down at his hand hanging in the air from the armrest. Their skin met as she placed her hand atop his. "I really like it when you call me that, Lucas."

* * *

**_H_**er gesture made him go quiet again but he didn't move away. She was really making this hard on him, wasn't she? He didn't want to get close to her but the more time they spent together, even when he was nasty and standoffish, the more he liked her and the more she seemed to like him. For whatever reason. He had no idea why _she'd_ give _him_ the time of day, let alone hold his hand and run her thumb along his skin. Her hand was so soft and warm — for a moment, he imagined himself running his fingers through her hair, which surely was also soft and warm.

He had to bite his tongue when he found himself wanting to tell her how happy he was that she'd stayed for dinner, the words catching in his throat. He shook it off and focused on the drive. When he reached the gate, he didn't want to get out of the truck. It would force him to move his hand from hers, force her to stop her tender touch, but he had no choice.

After he'd parked and they'd made it inside, they went up the garage steps and back into the dining room. Jack and his mom were through the other side, in the living room and watching the 8 o'clock news. His mom stood and headed toward the dining room to greet them.

"Oh, good, Jack, they're all right," she said. "We just saw on the news how bad it is out there."  
"Yeah," said Lucas, "I couldn' get anywhere n' we decided it was best t' just turn around."

He walked past her and into the living room with Jack to ask if Pers could stay.


	5. LCS

**_L_**ucas brought back blankets and extra pillows, then set them aside to wait until the news ended at 9 o'clock. Jack and his mom got up to head to bed and Jack took him aside into the hallway.

"Now look, son," he said, their eyes stern on one another's. "You better be on your best behavior tonight with this young lady. Be a gentleman, an'… Just don't do somethin' you'll regret later. Understand?"  
He got the gist of it — nothing more needed to be said and he really didn't want to hear Jack elaborate. He replied dryly, "Yes, Dad."

Jack placed a hand on his shoulder. When his mom walked in, she and Jack headed off to bed, leaving Lucas and Persephone alone. He went back into the living room, peering over the couch to see her sitting on the floor in front of it, phone in hand. Staying casual, he sat beside her, peering out of the corner of his eye to see who she was texting. As long as it wasn't Oliver, he would be happy.

She seemed to notice him looking. "Texting my dad. Says he worked late today. I doubt that, but whatever."

He waited for her to finish, which she did soon after, and from there he didn't know what to do. Part of him wanted to leave her to her own devices but another part of him smelled her perfume, or body wash, or shampoo — just her in general, and that part of him begged to stay. Her stomach then rumbled very loud.

"Fuckin' starving," she said. "Got any snacks?"

Soon, chips were spread before them — one just plain potato, the other tortilla chips paired with some leftover salsa. It had been all he could scrounge up from the pantries, but she didn't seem to mind and dug right in before her phone went off. She groaned when she checked it.

He asked, "What?"  
"It's fucking Oliver. Again."  
He tensed but tried to sound casual. "What's he want?"  
She read the text out loud in a deep, dopey voice. "_'__ey girl w-y-d'._" Then back to normal. "He always texts me that whenever he's trying to get me to talk to him. Then he'll wind up inviting me over or some shit."  
"Have you…?"  
Persephone looked at him with deeply furrowed brows, but then laughed. "You're joking, right?"  
"Y-yeah, jokin'." He felt his face heat up. What a stupid question. If he could punch himself in the face, he would.

She didn't respond to Oliver (which filled Lucas with an odd kind of pride) and instead put her phone away.

Then she looked him over, particularly his hoodie, and abruptly asked, "You comfy in that wet jacket?"  
He'd only become aware that his hoodie hung cold and wet on his skin right then. It definitely wasn't comfy. "Guess I should at least hang it up t' dry."

He pulled it off and tossed it over the back of the couch. He did wear a grey sleeveless shirt underneath it, yet once the hoodie came off, a chill rolled across his skin, making him vulnerable and naked. He took notice of her gaze upon him, eyes he thought judged him, eyes that made him want to recoil. His first thought was that she feared him — after all, most people seemed to instinctively be fearful, instinctively knowing he's fucked up — but as he looked deeper at her, he saw something different in her eyes. Something else.

She glanced to his discarded hoodie, a thoughtfulness in her gaze, then back to him. "So what's the 'LCS' stand for?"  
"Uh…" Here comes the rejection. Though he pleaded for his brain to come up with a lie, he knew nothing would work. Every scenario in those brief few moments had him tripping on details. The complicated, intertwined story couldn't be spun into anything but the truth. His heart jumped at his own words, "Louisiana Correctional Services. Long story."  
"We got nothing but time," she said, going for the chips and salsa next. "If you wanna tell."

Did he? Her questioning took him off-guard. God, was she something — smart, inquisitive, and way too damn pretty for Dulvey. Before his rational brain warned him to stop, the story came spilling out.

"Got involved in a big brawl 'bout two years ago — wasn't the first time but it was the time our principal didn' take so kindly to it, prolly 'cuz I wound up pullin' a knife. Hit one of the guys over the head with the hilt, put 'im in the hospital, n' got charged with assault with a deadly weapon n' some other bullshit. They didn' care who started the fight — pretty sure I was the only one that went to juvie fer it. Was there fer a year, got held back to do some stupid special education classes, n' I been on parole ever since. Once I graduate, I'll fin'lly be free. Of parole and high school, thank God."

"Damn, sounds crazy."  
His heart skipped a beat. Please, _please_ mean the situation and not him.  
She added, "That's fucked they didn't care about the other people involved. Singling you out like that. Who were the other guys?"  
"Jackasses. You know the kind, ya met one of 'em."  
"Oliver." She rolled her eyes.  
"Yep. He's always the one who starts it. I just try n' stay away from 'im. If I could, I'd kick his ass, but now that I'm eighteen, a parole violation can land me straight in prison. Glad he's an idiot, 'cuz I know we'll be goin' to differ'nt colleges n' I fin'lly won' hafta look at his stupid fuckin' face any more."  
"Was he the one you put in the hospital?"  
"Nah, I wish."  
"What's the deal with you and him anyway?"  
"He's an asshole. Been houndin' me since we were kids. Didn' help none that Momma took me t' therapy n' shit — that kind a' thing gets around, ya know."  
"Therapy?"  
"Yeah, stupid bullshit. Guess she was hopin' I could go on meds n' have it be done n' over, but they told me medicine couldn't 'fix' my brain." He sneered, roughly grabbing a handful of chips and breaking them in his fist over the bowl in an attempt to release some of his aggression. "'Pparently I've got—" air quotes, "—'antisocial personality disorder'. Guess it explained a lot but damn did that spread. People were callin' me a psychopath but Oliver's the one who coined Crazy Lucas. That's what pretty much the whole school calls me now. Been like that ever since I was a kid. They like it when I can hear 'em talkin' 'bout me, tryin' t' get me t' snap n' get sent away again — sometimes they make me so angry I'd like to—"

He stopped. He'd almost said something apt for Crazy Lucas, almost gave Pers a reason to believe everything people said about him. He turned slightly away from her, gaze dropping. Why the fuck did he care anyway? What she thought about him didn't matter, or shouldn't matter, but he couldn't meet her eye. Not after he almost spoke of one of his crazy fantasies. He glared at the floor between his legs, and sat in silence. Her lack of response frightened him and a pit clumped in his stomach. She hated him. No way she didn't — he couldn't blame her.

His heart jumped when her hand touched his shoulder, more skin-to-skin contact that electrified and surprised him. All of his attention held on her words.

"I went to therapy, too. After my aunt died. She was the one who took care of me whenever my dumbass mom was too drunk. Sometimes, I would call her Mom instead. But when I found out she'd been stabbed out in the city, I… Didn't feel anything. I knew I should have, and it worried me, so I told my dad and he suggested therapy. I think he just wanted to 'fix' me, too. My therapists said I was a misanthrope, nihilistic, and a whole bunch of other unofficial terms — that my lack of compassion is a defense mechanism so I don't get close to people, or care about them. Ever since my aunt, I haven't felt anything for people, outside of frustration and contempt. But I'd get angry and upset hearing about a dog that's been abused or how animals are killed in a slaughterhouse. It would make me feel something that humans couldn't anymore. But, you know, for all the things I don't give a fuck about and for all the times my therapists said I might never care… I do. I care about _you_."  
Lucas looked in her direction, still avoiding her gaze.  
"My point is, you're more than what people say you are."

Something built up in his chest. What the feeling was, he didn't know, but it made him want to be close to her. He fought hard against it, but how long could he? When he finally looked into her dark brown eyes, she made it so difficult to fight. He tried to remember the rumors, the possibility of rejection, but her understanding and beautiful smile took control of him, of his arms, making him reach out and pull her into a hug. Her words went through his mind over and over as he held her. She held him, too, somehow. Though he didn't understand — probably could never understand — why she'd want to, her arms held him tight, filling him with warmth. He wanted to stay like that; all night, maybe all weekend, with her hair tickling his face and her soft body against him.

He nuzzled into her hair and kissed her head, then kissed her cheek. It escalated until he pressed into her and laid her across the floor, their lips locked. In that moment, all his worry and hesitation disappeared. It almost didn't feel real but she was definitely kissing him back. Her hands explored his chest and back, her touches urging him to continue. She clearly didn't care about their classmates or the rumors or any of the bullshit, and he started not to, either. None of it mattered. Only Pers mattered, her and her soft lips.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been kissing as all time stopped for him for a while. She wound up the first to break their kiss, leaving his mind and body begging for more.

"Lucas, I think we should slow down," she said, gently pushing him off by his chest.  
He backed away, a bit breathless. "Yeah. Yeah, yer right."  
She sat up and kissed his cheek. "We can pick this up some other time, though."

For the rest of the night, they cuddled on the sofa, as if things couldn't have ended more perfectly. They wrapped themselves up in a warm blanket, random animal channel on the television in the background. She held him. Her head rested across his chest as he reclined against the couch cushions. His arm wrapped around her waist. He felt her falling asleep — her hand had been caressing his chest through his shirt, but her movements slowed and her breathing deepened. To have her fall asleep in his arms… What an amazing feeling.

Everything that had happened that night played through his mind (he had to hold back laughing when he recalled her vomit story and the look on his mother's face from it). The memories lingered as an endless loop that he could've replayed forever. But he did stop his memory reel to consider their future. She believed in him as no one else had. _"__You're more than what people say you are." _He would make good by her words.

* * *

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	6. Alcoholic vs Workaholic

"**_S_**o when am I going t' yer house?"

Lucas posited this at lunch on Monday, watching Persephone sputter on her white grape juice.

She crinkled her nose at him, squinting. "The hell are you talking about?"  
"Ya know, fer our project." His foot nudged her under the table.  
"Uh, you're not. Besides, all the hardware is at your place—"  
"—All right, all right, ya got me, I wanna meet yer mom n' dad."

She went quiet and just… Stared, brow slowly knitting. Whatever he said must've pissed her the hell off. She shot up to leave.

"See ya."  
He grabbed her wrist. "Hey, c'mon, don' be like that. If we're going to be something, then I should at least meet 'em."  
With a sigh, she plopped back down into her seat, having possibly the dirtiest look on her face he's seen yet. She glared at him and said, "All right, y'all wanna see what you're in for? Then why the fuck not. Come over after school today, meet my drunk-ass mom and my I'd-rather-be-at-work-than-deal-with-this-shit dad."  
Well then. He wanted to comment on her outburst, but there was only one thing that really stuck out to him. "Did you just say 'y'all'?"  
"Shut up."

* * *

He followed Persephone up the walkway to her front door after school that afternoon, hands in his pockets while he waited for her to unlock it. She hadn't spoken a word the entire time, despite his best efforts to get her to talk (is this how she'd felt when they'd first started hanging out?). With a heavy sigh, she shoved the door open and then took him inside. Her mother slept, sprawled out on the couch in the living room in wrinkled jeans and a tank top. A six-pack sat in front of her, three of the bottles lying empty across the coffee table.

"Got a guest, Mom," Pers called apathetically.  
He watched her mom stir and wipe drool from her chin.  
"Oh," she said. "Hey, baby, who's your friend?"  
"This is Lucas, from school. Lucas, this is Terry."  
"Hi." Terry waved giddily. "Oh, Persy, can ya do me a favor?"  
Pers closed her eyes, breathing in deep through her nose. "Yes, Mom."  
"Can ya help me ge' ta bed?"  
She released her sigh. "Yes, Mom."

She wound up having to half-carry Terry upstairs. It gave Lucas time to pull a Persephone and snoop. Only… There wasn't much to snoop through. There were a few boxes piled up in the corner by the couch, but the barren walls surrounded him and most of the furniture looked kind of hodgepodge. Their television wasn't plugged in, no pictures of the family in sight; a far cry from his own environment where he couldn't walk three feet without seeing his face plastered everywhere. He peeked around the corner and into the kitchen. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink. He thought about the other night when she'd helped his family clean up after dinner. It would suck to do her dishes and help her out, but if he did, would that be weird?

A loud thud crashed upstairs, then a rattling like marbles scattered across the floor, followed by Persephone's cursing. A few moments later, Persephone trudged down the stairs to find him standing around awkwardly.

He asked, "What was that noise?"  
"Boxes of crap in my parent's room, kicked one, jumped into the nightstand, and Mom's open pill bottle went flying." She sighed hard. "C'mon, let's just go up to my room."

He followed her up the stairs and down the hallway. Her room was the last one on the right; small, plain, and boring. Not at all what he'd expected, but considering the rest of the house, he wasn't surprised. Only a few things had been set up, like her bed, nightstand, and a dresser. A box sat in the corner and she dragged it over in front of Lucas, then pulled her nightstand around to use as a desk for herself. She dropped onto the floor with her arms crossed. Pers was different, unhappy here. He expected her to make a joke about the crap-fest that was her house, but she said nothing. She only sat there, sneering.

* * *

**_P_**ersephone felt awkward, sitting there in her 'room' with Lucas. It didn't feel like a home to her at all. Jack and Marguerite's house felt more like a home and she found herself wishing to be there instead. Marguerite was such a kind lady, welcoming and warm unlike her own mother. The meeting with Terry didn't go well — she would never remember Lucas's name — and Persephone knew meeting her father would go even worse. He was nothing like Jack, either.

Lucas stood in her room looking around at the mostly barren landscape of it all, and something about it had her fingers tapping hard on her nightstand.

"Well?" She snapped. "Go on, get comfy."  
He sat on the carpeted floor. "So… That was yer mother."  
"Sure was, Sherlock. Good meeting, right? Satisfied?"  
"So yer mom's not just a drunk, eh?"  
"Hell no. My mom does a million kinds of drugs and not just prescription. I swear, without my dad, she would fall apart."  
"Looks like she already has."  
"Yep. Doctors keep stuffing her with meds to fix her, but I don't think anything will." She sighed irritably. "Let's just get to work, all right?"

He didn't argue, thankfully. She still refused to speak much, just letting Lucas take control, but he was persistently trying to get her to talk. Damn, is that what she'd put him through when they'd first met? It remained a tried and true method, at least, after he pointed out a Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Halloween poster on the wall; Leatherface and Michael Meyers prominent as the few decorations in her room. It cheered her up a bit to chat about her favorite horror movies.

Final preparations for their project were coming along well. The last roadblock was moving the 55-gallon drum onto their contraption.

"We should be able to fill it after we put it in place," she said. "Just gotta set the machine up with a hose or something and have the machine insert it into the bunghole."  
Lucas snickered.  
"Shut up," she said, but she was also laughing. "This is very scientific and you need to take it seriously."

So they tossed ideas around for a self-filling drum and some simple joints to take the hose out. They had at least a dozen papers filled with their ideas and lists of places to get their parts. It had been a couple of hours, and they decided to take a break from writing and staring into their books.

"So when we pull the barrel back, how are we going to keep it in place so it can get flung full speed?" She mused.  
"We should make a magnet — the barrels my dad has are magnetic. We can turn it on to pull the barrel back, then turn it off to send it flyin'."  
Persephone looked at him, impressed with his creativity and ambition. "I think that would work out nicely. You're damn smart. And creative. And really cute — hell, you just got it all."  
"Cute? I think yer blind."  
She giggled. "Oh, stop, you are."  
"Shit, Pers," he said defeatedly. "I love listenin' t' ya laugh."

After that, their study break mostly consisted of him laying her across the bed, trailing kisses down her face and to her mouth, and getting handsy with her chest and ass. She returned the passion, running her hands up his chest and raking her nails across his back as they found a pleasurable rhythm for their tongues. His stubble rubbed against her lips, making her moan into his mouth. He moved to her throat and sucked on the sensitive skin. She grasped the back of his hoodie and bit her lip as the tingling ran along her back and shoulders.

Persephone kept having to move his mouth toward the sides and back of her neck to avoid him leaving noticeable hickeys. The closer he got the nape of her neck, the more his lips and tongue thrilled her, getting her to squirm and moan and succumb to the pure bliss. She desperately kissed his ear and the side of his head and anywhere else her lips could reach given her position beneath him.

But when he moved his face to between her boobs, something clicked in her brain and she realized how far they were going. She had to call the break off. Lucas, breathing heavy and clearly disappointed that his excitement had been cut short, had to step out into the hallway for a few minutes. Thank god for the brief respite. She found it difficult to not let things go too far. Lucas turned her the hell on, made her take things too far, too fast.

She found it rather funny how much she enjoyed Lucas's scrawny body. Her last sex toy was far more muscular, but even then, the boys in Chicago hadn't done anything for her. This hick from Louisiana had her completely captivated. Lucas's smarts, reservations, and deep passion made him so different from other people she'd met. He had baggage, was somewhat broken, but didn't often show his inner insecurities to anyone, aside from her. He showed her how special he found her simply by opening up. And if the thickness of the bulge that had dug into her groin was anything to go by, he had more up his sleeve for her.

But Lucas could never be just sex — someone who made her feel, someone who made her smile and laugh, could never be meant for something so trivial or superficial. She'd found the connection her therapists said she would never have. All of that made her want to do things she shouldn't. Someone so precious, she wanted to take it slow; savor every moment.

She returned her brain to project mode when Lucas returned a minute later and they were back to working on their project straight after. Their design was coming together well and they extensively labeled even the tiniest of joints. By the end of their study session, they felt ready to make the hardware that weekend and fit the truck with machinery.

The front door opened and shut, spurring Persephone to look at her alarm clock. She bit her tongue to hold onto her groan. Time for Ronald to be home, Lucas's ride would be around soon. Ugh. She'd have to say goodbye and then return to her old life once again. She reluctantly helped pack everything and headed for the living room.

At the top of the stairs, Persephone leaned into Lucas, hands on his chest. She gave him a small kiss.

"Now the real challenge: my dad. Good luck."

Her father stood in the kitchen, fridge open as he scooped Persephone's chili into a bowl, his back to them.

"Hey, Dad."  
Looking over his shoulder, her father's eyes keyed in on Lucas instantly.  
Persephone intervened, "This is Lucas, from school. We're working on a project for our Physics class."  
Her father put his bowl down, shut the refrigerator door, and approached Lucas, his shoulders back and his face stoic. He held out his hand when he drew close enough. "Ronald Black."  
"Lucas Baker." Lucas firmly shook Ronald's hand, looking down at him.

The fact that Ronald stood shorter than Lucas almost made her laugh, had it not been for Ronald's nasty glare. She watched Ronald probe deep into Lucas's unwavering eyes first, scanning, searching through his very psyche. Lucas didn't seem fazed at all.

Then Ronald released him and turned to her, speaking firmly. "I hope this boy isn't going to distract you from your grades, young lady."  
"Of course not, Dad."  
"_This_ isn't going to be the first year you come home with less than an A on your report card."  
"Dad, please." Persephone crossed her arms. "You know I'm gonna get an A."  
Ronald huffed out of his nose. "You'd better."  
Lucas moved his backpack to his arm and dug through it, pulling out the papers they'd worked on that night, for Ronald's viewing pleasure. "As ya can see, she n' I have been hard at work."  
Ronald pulled the papers from Lucas's hands and read through them.  
"We'll be workin' on the hardware, n' we'll have this baby up n' runnin' by next weekend."  
Ronald scanned all of the papers, then looked up from them to Lucas. "See to it that you do."

Ronald was already unimpressed — Persephone knew it simply by the obstinate and cold look on his face. Lucas's thick accent didn't help. She knew Ronald would think of Lucas as a dumb redneck. Probably forever. A car honked from outside, letting these depressing thoughts disperse.

"That's my ride," Lucas said, taking the papers back. "Nice meetin' ya."

Ronald only harrumphed. Persephone rolled her eyes and took Lucas to the front porch. The old beat-up truck waited across the street with Jack waving from the window.

"Sorry about my dad," said Persephone, waving to Jack. "I know he's a hard-ass."  
Lucas shrugged. "'Least he knows I exist now. N' if I help you get an A, maybe he won' be so bad."  
"Yeah, good luck with that."

Lucas hugged her. All they could afford in front of Jack was a small kiss, though Lucas deviously slipped his tongue into her mouth before they pulled away.

"Not in front of your dad," Persephone laughed, gently shoving his shoulder.

He chuckled and tugged her into one last embrace before leaving for the car. Jack regarded him with a strangely proud smile as he crossed to the passenger side. She watched them head home, longing to go with them.

* * *

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	7. Forgotten Inhibitions

_All characters involved in the following sex scene are 18 years of age or older._

* * *

**_T_**he assignment was huge — not only because of what they wanted to do, but because of the extensive notes Mrs. Tompkin wanted them to take. Their teacher wasn't fucking around. Though… Lucas and Persephone certainly were that Sunday afternoon, shooting the shit in his old room.

"I'm only in AP Physics 'cuz my dad wants me to be," Persephone vented. "He thinks I'll have a good shot in 'the real world' if I have top tier grades from only the hardest classes or something. Now, if this was going to land me in medical school, that'd be different."  
"Medical school?" Lucas asked, "You wanna be a doctor?"  
"A surgeon. That'd be cool and I've always been really good with medicine, biology, chemistry. But my dad's the one who decided all my classes and just had to put me in the ones that don't matter. He's such a jackass… No wonder Mom has to be on her happy pills. I'm surprised I'm not on 'em, too."

When she saw him scribbling something down, she figured she would return to her notes in hopes of actually getting on with their project. Only moments later, while her face was in their notes, a piece of crumpled paper hit her in the shoulder.

She looked to Lucas and shook her head. "You have shit aim." Opening the paper, she came face-to-face with a crudely drawn pill, smiling with cartoony eyes. "Cute. But I bet I could do better."  
"Like to see you try."

And just like that, their session turned into a draw-off. As Persephone wasn't an artist, all her work turned out looking like shit. Lucas was good with weapons and electronics, and pretty decent at art, though anything outside of his norm looked unpracticed. They enjoyed making fun of each other's terrible and goofy art. After nearly 20 minutes of their back-and-forth — and a huge pile of discarded papers to boot — Marguerite called from downstairs.

"Lucas! Come help your father, please!"  
Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'!" Then he said to Persephone, "I'll be back in a bit. See if y'all can get them equations right."  
"Oh, yeah, leave me with the hard job, thanks."  
Lucas smirked over his shoulder at her as he walked out the door.

Persephone wracked her brain over the equation for quite a while. There were thumps, grunts, and inaudible instructions coming from downstairs. With a headache oncoming, Persephone stood to have another look around the room.

She'd seen most of the trophies on the one side of the room, but the other side remained unexplored. Mostly, there were medals and ribbons — 3rd places, 4th places, a few sparse 2nd places that didn't make it to his main side — but an odd trophy caught her eye. It was barely noticeable and she'd mistaken it for a lamp on several occasions as it had a shade on top. Now that she got a closer look, it was definitely a trophy. She picked it up and examined it; very shiny and clean, no layer of dust like on the rest of that side of the room; no light in it whatsoever, only a button so it couldn't even serve as a lamp. Nice, a 1st place trophy.

… Wait, there was a button at the top?

Yep, she affirmed, that's a bright red button, all right. Curiosity ate at her and she had to press it. When she did, a hatch opened up and a ladder lowered from the ceiling, leading into the attic. She didn't know the Bakers had an attic, but it didn't come as much of a surprise with their expansive home. Persephone felt her heart racing a bit and her palms growing clammy. She knew she shouldn't snoop… But it was way too much fun.

She kept her footsteps barely audible as she quietly climbed the ladder, up into the darkened attic. When she reached the top, she pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. It was a small attic; musty and with a hint of mildew. At first, things looked normal, boring. There were shelves with tools and abandoned electronics, furniture lining the walls — some broken, some not. But then, most interestingly, she noticed a desk with a laptop in the back.

Floorboards creaked underfoot and she cursed the squeaking as she tiptoed toward the desk. She pressed the power button and the laptop started up. Her leg bounced while she waited for it to load and she took a gander at the desk to calm her racing heart. Some notes lay scattered around. The first one she read had been from Zoe: _'__Dear, dumb-dumb: Everyone can get on your shit if you use the same password for your phone and computer, knucklehead!'_. Persephone didn't know when that was written but she knew his current phone password from having asked why it took him forever to unlock the damn thing. 3141592653 — pi, because of course it was.

She input that into the computer and it worked. Wow, for being so smart, he sure could be dumb.

His desktop had a few of the classic things on it — a browser, some games, a few code-monkey programs — but that wasn't good enough, there had to be something more. She dove deeper and explored the documents. What was so important on this computer that it was hidden behind several layers of security? It felt like a goose chase but she knew that something juicy lay in wait for her. Somewhere. She opened every little tab for every little folder, mostly finding nothing.

Until she came across one folder — hidden deep within some inconspicuous music files — called 'A113'.

Inside, she found blueprints and ideas for weapons and contraptions of all kinds. One file in particular shown a large circular saw, made up of saw-blades, barbed wire, razors, and knives. It had a detailed engine — joints and wires connected everything. A chill ran down the back of her neck… A pleasurable chill that compelled her to keep investigating.

She clicked on a text file entitled 'game' and scanned through what appeared to be a set of rules for a game similar to jeopardy, but with fucked up questions about the other person. A game for people who knew each other well. Why were the weapons and this weird game text file in the same folder? She wasn't sure, but a shudder ran up her spine at the realization that it existed at all. What the hell was this? And why did it make her insides throb with excitement?

"You really are nosy."

She whipped around to Lucas; so close that the laptop illuminated the small, lighter flecks in his blue eyes.

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her aside, pressing her into the wall, his grip on her almost painfully tight. "Yer somethin', Pers. Couldn' figure out that equation but ya damn sure could figure out how to get up here n' onto my computer."  
"All right, all right, so I snooped," she said, squirming to get out of his grasp; stronger than he looked. "Little tight there, big guy."  
He observed her, deeply staring into her eyes. His body slowly pushed against hers, breasts squishing into his chest. "What, don' like it rough?"  
A flush of warmth ran through her. She shouldn't find these words so sexy, but her racy response came out anyway. "Guess there's only one way to find out."

Lucas wasted no time in taking his position of control to shove his lips against hers, making her murmur into his mouth. He jammed himself between her legs and she tossed one around his waist to keep him close. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, running against hers as his hand released her wrist to rest across her cheek and jawline. The other hand kept its hard, rough grip on her. She frantically used her free hand to claw at his back through the hoodie, trailing up his shoulder and to his chest. She tore the hoodie's zipper down just enough to slip her hand inside, fingers touching the warm skin of his neck and collarbone.

That girth dug into her thigh again. She wanted him. She wanted him so badly she couldn't take it anymore. Panting, she pulled back to look into his eyes.

"Fuck me, Lucas," she said breathlessly. "Right here and now. Fuck me hard."

He stood there for a moment, mouth slightly agape, but he quickly took the seam of her pants and tore them open at the crotch, earning an appreciative, "fuck yes". He unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock out of its confines. It smacked against her stomach. She somehow didn't realize it would be so huge, despite the prior warnings.

"Wow. Wasn't expecting such a big dick."  
"I'm just full of surprises."

It was a good thing she was already soaked because he drove his cock into her and went at her hard. His cock filled her and then some, making her cry out. Persephone threw her head back, moaning loud for him. Lucas was brutal. Every thrust shocked her insides, sending her body and mind reeling, the force pulling her off the ground and setting her on her tip-toes for just a moment in between. To muffle her ruckus, she held him close and shoved her face into his neck. She couldn't help but be loud. He stretched her so far that it hurt, but it only made her wetter, pussy juices soaking across her pants and along her thighs.

"Fuck yes, Lucas," she said in his ear. "Please, fuck me harder!"

He didn't give her a chance to set her toes on the ground again, fucking her so rough that he pinned her between the wall and his cock. Her other leg still held his waist tight to keep her from falling. But she wanted it rougher. She wanted it so fucking rough. She reached into the back of his jacket and pulled up his undershirt, tearing across his skin with her nails. His hand that had been grabbing her ass moved up to her hair and he wrenched a handful of it back, revealing her throat. He sunk his teeth into her and she screamed. But she still wanted more — more biting, more abuse, more brutalizing her pussy with his huge cock. She pulled him by the back of his head, driving his teeth deeper into her skin. He gnashed them against her, grunting and growling, breath heavy, movements erratic.

"Don't cum inside me," she warned. "You better pull out, big guy. Cum in my throat instead."

He immediately tore away and shoved to her knees, then grabbed her head, thrust hard into her mouth, and pushed himself down the back of her throat.

"Oh fuck yes, Pers."

His quivering voice melted her. She eagerly swallowed against his cock, taking every drop of his cum, tasting his delicious flavor. Her thumb and her index finger formed a circle around his shaft, right up to her lips. She moved forward just a bit more, crinkling her nose determinedly. She was going to take as much of him as possible, even if it made her gag. Which it did. Then she slid back and observed where her fingers were; slightly more than halfway.

"Damn," she said through her panting, "it's gonna be forever 'til I can take the rest."

He panted even harder than her, his legs visibly quivering. But she wasn't finished with him yet. She stood and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Well?" She demanded shortly. "It's my turn to cum, get to work."

He didn't need prompting for what to do next and dropped to his knees, diving hungrily for her soaking wet pussy. Her clit was so sensitive that every time his tongue rolled over it, she twitched and squirmed. She kept his face close, hands on the back of his head, riding him, controlling the pace. His murmuring and grunting drove her mad with lust. It didn't take much time for her head to be thrown back and her body to shudder against him.

"I'm cumming," she moaned. "Fuck yes, Lucas."

Her orgasm flooded every part of her, taking her mind and blurring it with bliss as her insides throbbed.

* * *

How she and Lucas got to the dusty couch in that attic, she didn't remember, nor did she care. All that mattered was his warmth. They sat close, his arms around her and her head against his chest.

She sighed pleasantly. "That was so fucking good."  
"That's an understatement."  
"It really is."

They both chuckled, equally as weak and tired. She listened to his heart beating, slowing to normal as they relaxed. Her closing eyes last saw the laptop's light shutting off, the computer going to sleep mode. Someday she'd ask him about what she found. And maybe that would be the day she finally figured out why it had turned her on so much.

* * *

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	8. Oliver's Mistake

_**T**_hey met each other at the front doors to school that Monday and Lucas immediately held Persephone's hand. He walked her to her locker, keeping their fingers laced the whole way. Damn, did it feel good to strut past the rumor mill and swagger through prying, judgmental eyes; like taking back his senior year.

When they got to their destination, she turned to face him. "I'll see you at lunch."  
"Yep, I'll meet y'all right here."

She kissed his lips right in front of everyone — Goddamn did he love that. As he walked to his own locker, he couldn't help but sashay through the halls like he owned the place. His smile couldn't be wiped away as he put his lunch and Physics book in their proper places. When he closed the door to head for class, someone grabbed his shoulder and threw him up against the lockers, a loud clang echoing through the halls. Lucas clenched his fists, coming face-to-face with a sneering Oliver.

"Think you're hot shit now that ya got th' girl, don'cha?"

Lucas had to consciously unclench his balled hands. He wasn't going to blow everything now, all the shit he worked hard for, over someone as stupid as Oliver. He tried to simply walk away but Oliver slammed his palm into the lockers, arm out in Lucas's path.

Oliver spat, "Gettin' her before you might not 'a worked out fer me but I'll sure be there to comfort her when ya go back _ta juvie_."

A crowd started to form around them. Vultures.

"Get outta my damn face," Lucas demanded.  
"Hope juvie's just as cramped and smelly as your attic, Baker."  
"It's been ten fuckin' years, let it go."  
"Why? Ya weren't gonna let _me_ go, were ya? Crazy fuck."  
"I'm _not_ crazy."

Oliver launched the first punch right into Lucas's arm when he shot it up to block his face. His backpack straps were grabbed and Oliver threw him to the other side of the hall. Lucas abandoned his pack and punched Oliver in the side of the head, disorienting him for just long enough that Lucas tried to get the hell out of there, but Oliver's friend pushed him back into the middle of the ring.

Oliver grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around to face him again, a fast punch barely seen in his left eye. For a brief second, Lucas's vision went white and he saw stars, but he shook it off with a flurry of punches, whaling on his stupid face with both hands. The crowd screeched and jeered — some shouted "kick his ass, Oliver!", and he heard a few scream, "send him back to juvie!", but another voice stuck out to him.

"Outta the way, assholes!"

That was Persephone's voice, and one of their teachers seemed close behind, calling for the students to disperse.

"Shit," Oliver muttered.

Persephone pushed through the crowd with the teacher right behind. She immediately shoved herself between Oliver and Lucas, forcing Oliver aside.

"How did I know?" Persephone demanded. "Of course _you'd_ be the one involved, you son-of-a—"  
"Miss Black, I'll take it from here, thank you."

Persephone held onto Lucas's arm the whole way to the nurse's office, where he and Oliver were placed in separate rooms and evaluated before what would be a stressful visit to the principal's office. Lucas clutched Persephone's hand while the nurse shined lights in his eyes and checked his blood pressure. She gave him an ice pack from the mini-fridge in the corner to put over his blackened eye. When the nurse left the room, shutting the door behind her, Lucas released his tension in a deep, gruff sigh.

"Goddammit, Pers, I didn' mean fer this t' happen…"  
"I know, Oliver's a real—"  
"No, not the fight. I'm glad I could give that douchebag a good punch. But I violated my parole. They're gonna send me back to juvie for this, maybe prison, then you'll be stuck here alone with all these assholes, I won' be able ta help ya get an A on that project, n' we—"  
"Lucas, slow down." She draped her arms around his shoulders. "I'm not gonna let any of that happen."  
He sighed again, head dropping harder into the ice pack. "It won' be so easy."

Mrs. Tompkin walked in, observing him and Persephone for a moment.

"This isn't good, Mr. Baker…" Mrs. Tompkin said. "I couldn't get most of the eyewitnesses to admit who started the fight and the few that did claimed it was you."  
Persephone grit her teeth. "That's bullshit!"  
"Language, please, Miss Black. Those who told me Mr. Baker started the fight are also close to Mr. Jones, so I don't take them as credible sources. I've given my two cents to Principal Williams already, the rest is up to you, Mr. Baker."  
"I want to talk to the principal," said Persephone, her leg bouncing irritably.  
"I'm afraid that you were not an eyewitness. Your statements would hardly hold up, Miss Black."  
Persephone shot up from her seat. "_My_ statements don't matter, but I know whose do."

She stormed out of the room without another word. Mrs. Tompkin took a deep breath.

"Good luck to you." She nodded, then also left the room, leaving Lucas to his thoughts.

What was Persephone doing? He was curious to know her plan, but that wasn't the only thing on his mind. Did he mean that much to her? Or… did her project mean that much to her? No, don't be stupid. She _had_ to be doing it for him, she could easily do the project on her own if they gave her an extension (given the circumstances, Mrs. Tompkin would probably allow it). But she was throwing herself under the bus, for _him_. What did he even have to offer? He still didn't know what he was going to do for the rest of his life, and she'd go on to do surgery and earn way more money than he could ever hope to make. She wouldn't need him. And what if she found some actually attractive college guys to take his place? His lanky ass couldn't compete. No, stop being stupid. It was just the stress getting to him, and the silence.

Mrs. Tompkin came in shortly after (thank God, he could stop thinking so much) and made him follow her to the principal's office. It was a familiar enough space. He recognized the same plaques and awards hung vainly up on the wall behind the smooth, laminate desk, which wrapped against the right-hand wall. A flat-screen computer sat atop it, showing what Lucas knew to be his personal record.

Principal Williams motioned for Lucas to have a seat. He felt forced to sit there and watch as the man looked through the computer at a gruelingly slow pace. Lucas distracted himself by looking over the knickknacks: cutesy stuff that everyone knew the principal's young daughter had made for him (because he always showed them off), pictures of his family, his bright golden nameplate which proudly read 'MR. DOMINIC WILLIAMS', and various office supplies.

"Not good, Mr. Baker, not good at all."  
No, really? "I know, sir."  
"Sir? Don't try to butter me up now, Mr. Baker. Yer walkin' a thin line as it is." Mr. Williams spun on his chair to finally face Lucas. He fixed his glasses and said, "So Mrs. Tompkin tells me that you've been doin' well on yer project?"  
Lucas squinted as he looked at his principal. "Uh… Yeah, I guess."  
"And Miss Black was vouchin' fer you today. A straight-A student on yer side is good. But it's perhaps not enough, not fer yer parole."  
"You didn' call my mom n' dad, did ya?"  
"Not yet. I was waiting to get Mr. Jones's side of the story. I'd like to hear yers now."  
"Oliver's the one who started it. I was just mindin' my own business at my locker when he shoved me n' wouldn' let me leave. I only hit him after he hit me."

Principal Williams typed as Lucas spoke. Lucas saw that the principal had recorded everything he'd said.

The door to the office opened and he heard the secretary calling, "Miss, you can't go in there! Miss!". Lucas turned to see Persephone, shutting the door behind her, phone clenched in her hand.

Principal Williams laced his fingers and sat back in his chair. "Miss Black, somehow I'm not surprised to see you here."  
Persephone walked straight up to the desk, a balled hand on her hip. "Mr. Williams, I have a testimony here that I think might interest you."

She put her phone down on the table and opened up a file that began playing. Everyone gathered around it and Lucas listened carefully.

_A door shut, and then a voice came through — Oliver's, to be exact._

_"What in the hell do you want?"  
Then footsteps echoed before Persephone spoke. "Just coming in for a visit. Wow, not looking quite as rough as Lucas, huh?"  
There was some pride in Oliver's voice. "Baker hits like a girl."  
Persephone snickered. "Yeah, and he's about as moody as one, too. Can you believe he told me to fuck off? After I was just trying to help. I swear, I'm so sick of his shit."  
Oliver laughed heartily. "Took ya long enough!"  
"Yeah. And, honestly, you were much better in that fight." Footfalls sounded through, then the rubbing of fabric. "You're very muscular, Oliver. I'm impressed."  
"Damn, girl, if I'd known kickin' Baker's ass was all it took to get ya, I'd 'a done it sooner."  
Persephone giggled. "I love a guy who's not afraid of a little confrontation."  
"Then it's a good thing you're givin' up on Crazy. He's such a puss."  
"You're so bad. So you _

did_start the fight?"  
"Please, he's so worried 'bout his stupid parole that I _had_to. But enough 'bout that,—" more rustling fabric, "—how 'bout us?"_

She paused the recording and picked up her phone. Silence rang through the room. Almost everything that had been said in the recording hit Lucas hard. But she was just putting on an act, right? Trying to squeeze information out of Oliver in the best way she knew how, as a girl to a boy… A woman to a man. She did pause it at an awfully convenient time.

"That is quite the testimony," said the principal. "Send a copy of that recording to me, Miss Black."  
"Already on it," Persephone said, tapping away on her phone.  
"Well, Mr. Baker, in light of the new evidence, I will not expel you, but you _are_ suspended for three days." He opened a drawer, pulled out a suspension letter, and began writing. "And I'll be sure to show this to yer parole officer. He may be lenient, given the circumstances, but you need to be on yer best behavior."

* * *

With permission from Principal Williams, Persephone left school with Lucas and they walked back to her house. He sat beside her in her backyard on the lush, slightly overgrown grass. Lucas couldn't get that tape off his mind. He was dying to know the rest of the story, dying to know what happened right after she'd paused.

"What was on the rest of that tape, anyway?"  
"Nothing important."  
He eyed her suspiciously, body tensing. "Why are ya hidin' it from me?"  
She shook her head. "I'm not hiding anything from you, Lucas."  
"Then show me. Show me y'all weren't gettin' handsy with Oliver."  
Her face held utter disbelief, mouth somewhat open and brow knitted, a grimace underneath it all. "Wait. Is that what you think? You think I'd do that to you?"  
"Ya sure ended that recordin' awful fast."  
"I didn't want you to get angry."  
He was so done with her non-answers that he couldn't help but raise his voice. "Just play the fuckin' thing!"

She whipped out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, and the recording played from where it had left off.

_"__As if," Persephone's recorded voice said. There was more fabric scratching in the recording.  
"Hey, what the hell?"  
"I got all I need from you. I'm outta here, jackass. Oh, and, by the way, Lucas really fucked you up."_

_Then there was a struggle, a thud, and Persephone grunted._

_"Get off!" she shouted.  
Oliver's teeth were audibly grit. "You slut — what're ya tryin' ta pull?"_

_Persephone strained against Oliver, demanding for him to let her go and back off. The rustling fabric grew louder, as if the scuffle was escalating. Something banged rapidly on the door, then the handle jiggled._

_"Fuck," Oliver cursed.  
The door opened and one of the nurses came in, asking to know what was going on.  
_

The recording ended.

Lucas found himself shaking. Even more so when Persephone said,

"I was expecting him to attack me, though. No biggie."

He let Crazy Lucas slip into his mind, imagining himself hurting Oliver, strangling him. He could've fucking killed him right then and there if Oliver had been around. Lucas wanted to end him for daring to put his hands on Persephone. He clenched his fists against the damp grass, pulling the blades and dirt up with his fingers. Persephone seemed to pick up on his distress, fast.

"Lucas." She threw her arms around him, inadvertently letting him see finger-shaped bruises that had formed on her biceps, skyrocketing his boiling rage. Her hand ran along his hair. "Calm down, okay? I'm fine and you're basically off the hook now."  
"But that asshole—"  
"Is going to get what's coming to him. Williams will hear the whole thing… But I do wanna know…" She pulled away from him, looking directly into his eyes. "Why don't you trust me?"

Lucas rubbed his temple, trying to breathe, calm down, and push violent thoughts about Oliver out of his mind. More important now was making things right with the only person who stood up for him.

"I didn' mean to make ya feel that way. I just don' wanna lose you, n' the way you were talkin'…"  
Her hand touched his face, thumb gently caressing his bruise. "You know that meat-head doesn't do shit for me. I like _you_, Lucas, as if today hasn't been enough proof."  
He held her, still shaking a bit, but the closeness with Persephone helped to ease his anger. "I'm sorry, Pers. I'm lucky ya had my back today. Thank you."

* * *

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	9. Abnormal Reactions

All characters involved in the following sex scene are 18 years of age or older.

* * *

**_S_**unday, the day before they'd need to turn in their project, Lucas and Persephone ran some final tests. All they needed to do was put their last barrel in place, fill it up, and see how it worked. Persephone offered to input the hose and he turned the water on, going over Persephone's notes while waiting for it to fill. Once the water spilled out, she figured it was time.

"Final test run ready?" Lucas asked.  
Persephone did a quick visual inspection of the truck and mechanism attached to its bed, knocking on the barrel to make sure it was full. Then she turned the hose off and said, "Ready!"

She returned to his side, then he pressed the button on their remote. The machine pulled the hose out of the barrel via a crane and once the crane let go, the barrel was tugged back, held down by the strong magnet as the track angled upward. Her body tensed with excitement as she wrote down her observations.

"Thirty-five degree incline, as usual."

The barrel strained against the thick straps of nylon and rubber until the band stretched to its limits. She wrote down how far it went: 2 meters. The green light underneath turned red and the magnet released the barrel, letting the band whip back into place and fling the barrel through the sky. Water flew out of the open bunghole as the barrel spun sluggishly. It stopped once it slammed against a tree, cracking the bark in half.

Lucas stared in awe. "Woah."  
Persephone enunciated every word. "That. Was. Awesome."

The slingshot set itself back into place then their mechanism closed the tailgate. Their project was ready. Soon they wouldn't have to worry about school for a good two weeks. Persephone couldn't wait for winter break this year — she was going to spend the whole time with Lucas. She threw her arms around him and they embraced one another. Then they went about cleaning their mess; wrapping things up and putting everything together for tomorrow. They stowed an intact drum and a hose in the truck bed and tied down the slingshot's band so it wouldn't flap in the wind. Lucas took the truck around front, planning to drive them both to school with their project in the back.

* * *

Back up in Lucas's old room, Persephone helped pack their notes and books. After cleaning everything, Lucas sighed and sat on the bed, stretching his legs out.

"That shit took forever."  
She sat beside him. "Feels it. Took all weekend, at least. But hey, you're gonna show my dad up, 'cuz we're getting that A."  
"Think he'll care?"

Persephone laughed and shrugged. Probably not, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Who was she to cut him down? He'd learn about her father soon enough. The thought made her remember that she had something to learn, too.

"So, Lucas…" she started, her voice turning serious. "Can we talk? About your computer in the attic?"  
He cleared his throat. "What about it?"  
"You know."

She knew that he absolutely knew and she waited patiently for his response, leaning against him nonplussed. She wasn't afraid of what she found on the computer. Confused, curious, oddly turned on, but not scared.

Lucas breathed deep, then said, "I really fuckin' hate people, Pers. You can understand that. And sometimes I… Have these ideas…"  
"Is that what that game was?"  
"Yeah," he said softly. "I have these—" He paused again. "—_wild_ fantasies. About hurting people. Really bad. N' I'm not sure if I would actually do it 'r not, but my outlet is to write 'em all down on my computer upstairs. I used to write 'em in journals when I was a kid, but after Momma found 'em, I had to get more creative."  
"Well, I guess hiding it in the attic is a step in the right direction, then."

It made sense to her. After everything she'd heard from him and everything she'd seen on his computer (plus the equipment he always doodled in his notebook), it all added up.

His leg bounced, confusion clear in his voice. "That's… All ya gotta say? After I just told you about my psycho fantasies, _that's_ all ya gotta say?"  
"What did you expect me to say?"  
"I dunno," he said, a little more forcefully. "I dunno, Pers, but I sure as hell didn' expect ya t' be so calm about it."  
Persephone observed his face — he looked distraught. She accepted him, and he… Didn't like it? Or wanted a different reaction? "I don't get it. Do you want me to be scared or something?"  
"No," he said instantly. "No, I don' want that, but— God, I dunno, Pers!" He moved away from her, beginning to talk animatedly with his hands. "Maybe I thought you were gonna think I'm crazy, just like everyone else!"  
"And… Because I don't, you're mad?"  
"I'm not mad!" His bare feet stomped on the floor as he stood. Then he paced for a moment, running his hand along his short, buzzed hair.

"So, what? D'you want me to think you're crazy?"  
"_No_!" he snapped, whipping around to face her. "Fuck no! I just don' understand why yer so calm — I'm fuckin' _sick_, Pers, don'cha get it!? When I was seven, I was plannin' t' kill Oli—" He stopped but he'd already said it all.  
"What do you mean you were planning to kill Oliver?"  
He shouted, "I don' wanna talk about Oliver!"  
"Okay, okay," she said softly, then patted the bed beside her. "C'mon, why don't we cuddle some? Maybe it'll make you feel better."  
"It'd make me feel better if y'all had a _normal_ fuckin' reaction — but ya went right for me, we fucked right there next t' the computer with that fuckin' game file still up n' everythin'!" Then he looked deep into her eyes, examining her. His voice turned softer, a tonal shift that made her body tense. "N' you were scared a' me, weren'cha? I could see it in yer eyes. If nothin' else, ya prolly should be."

Another lull in the conversation. She couldn't comprehend his reaction — he claimed not to be angry but he sure acted belligerent. Still, she didn't feel fearful of him, perhaps against her better judgment. Actually, against her better judgment once more, she felt herself getting turned on. Again.

Lucas stared at her, drawing closer. He leaned across the bed with arms on either side of her, attracting her gaze to his gorgeous blue eyes. That bewitching stare bore into her and washed a warmth across her groin. When he spoke, he sounded almost sinister, making her skin tingle.

"Do I scare you, Pers?"

She had to admit, at least internally, that his unflinching face and manic attitude was unnerving and had her heart racing. But was it fear? Not even close. Persephone knew full-well that Lucas had issues — she was no idiot — but she cared about him. Lucas made her smile, made her laugh in ways she hadn't before. The boy was smart, awkward, cute, if not demented and, as he himself said, sick. Being unhinged excited her. It ignited a fire inside of her whenever she thought about it. She put a hand on his gaunt cheek, thumb rubbing his soft skin.

"Not at all."  
His hands clasped to her thighs, running up them. "You might actually be as crazy as I am."  
"You're not crazy. If you were, two years ago you would've stabbed that guy. You would've fucked up you-know-who the other day rather than being worried about your parole, and about us. You wouldn't be able to care but you do. Don't you?"  
His eyes softened, forehead touching hers. "'Course I do."  
"Then don't let people calling you crazy get to you. You're so much more than that, you're more than—"  
"—'More than what people say ya are'," he finished, sighing deeply. "I know, I know."

He stayed like that for a moment, eyes closed, lips slowly turning into a smile. She watched him, seeing all the emotions dancing through his expressions, still quite aware that his hands kept her thighs warm.

"God, Pers," he murmured, "what did I ever do t' earn someone like you?"  
"Being yourself really paid off."

He then scooped her up over his shoulder, one arm hooked around the back of her knees. Persephone's hands grappled for his hoodie.

"Hey!" She demanded, surprised at her quick upheaval (and similarly impressed with his strength). "What're you doing?"  
"Well, I wanted t' have some fun with ya, but we're both filthy." His free hand slapped her ass. "We're gonna catch a shower first."

He carried her out of the room and down the hallway. As she balanced on his shoulder, biting her lip, she thought of the fun they were going to have. She'd picked the weirdest, quirkiest boyfriend ever. And she was way too fucking into him.

* * *

**_T_**he bathroom awaited, down the hall, through the threshold. Lucas closed the door, dropped Persephone to her feet, then he turned to her, imagining all of the things he planned to do. She threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. Even as he walked toward the tub, she wouldn't let him go and he had to do a goofy shuffle toward the shower, their somewhat stifled giggles and laughter echoing around them. He reached out to the shower handle, struggling to find it before he pulled away to see properly. She took her chance to strip him; unzipping his hoodie and wrenching it off, unbuttoning his pants. When the water had warmed, he grabbed her clothes to tear them off, too.

She grabbed his wrists when he tried to yank her clothes. "Don't rip these."  
"Don' ruin my fun."

But he slowed down and took her clothes off gently. He had plenty of time to get rough with her, have her scream for him like she'd screamed the other day in the attic, but he wanted to wash her first; see her naked and lather her; run his hands across her body. Still kissing her warm lips, he shuffled a bit more as he made for the cabinet at the back. He scrambled around the drawers, hand probing everywhere for a washcloth.

When he found one and stripped the last piece of clothing off her, he took her into the shower and shut the curtains. Lucas soaped up the washcloth, eyeing her. They hadn't actually seen each other naked before — their first time was so spontaneous that they'd been fully clothed. Holy shit, her body nearly knocked him on his ass. Her curves, her pale skin, her plump ass and thighs and breasts; his eyes could've gotten lost for hours — well, if he had the patience. But he didn't. He wanted to grab at her, feel every soft bit of skin he could. He had to convince himself to take it slow, wash her, take in her scent and sensuality. With lip firmly between his teeth, he took the washcloth first to her neck, other hand on her supple waist.

Lucas washed her arms and shoulders, hands migrating to her full tits. He ran his fingers along her hard nipples, making her squirm and release tiny little breathy moans from her throat. How fucking cute.

* * *

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* * *

He stopped, remaining deep inside of her to feel her clenching orgasm and listen to her making a breathless fuss, then kept up his assault on her insides. Being able to make her cum exhilarated him — it only took a few extra thrusts to bring him to orgasm as well.

His breathing heavy, he grunted, "Oh shit, Pers, I'm gonna cum."

She pulled him out, whipped around, then dropped onto her knees. His orgasm gushed out hands-free, catching her neck and chin before she put her mouth around him, leaving her hands to work out the rest. It was the best orgasm of his fucking life. His mind swirled and his legs quivered as everything released inside of her mouth. He felt his lips and tongue forming curses, hearing his voice as though it came from miles away. Even after his body relaxed, he still felt the aftershocks of his orgasm streaming through his groin.

* * *

They lay in his old bed together a little while later, his arm around her and her head on his chest. The small bed cramped them together, but they made it work. They'd forgotten to bring fresh clothes and had to run to his old room in nothing but towels, but they laughed about it now. He would get clothes for the two of them soon but, for the time, they enjoyed a little pillow talk.

* * *

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	10. A Black Christmas with the Bakers

_**W**_inter break started out promisingly. Most days, Persephone and Lucas would send each other good morning texts, as they'd done this morning as well. It was almost Christmas eve and she sat at the dinner table, excitedly texting back-and-forth with Lucas about coming over soon and the prospect of her having Christmas dinner with his family.

"So are you ready f'r Christmas, hon?" Terry asked sweetly, glass of wine in hand.  
Persephone glanced to each of her parents, then stared down at her dinner plate. "Yeah, I was going to spend it with Lucas."  
"But we always do Christmas together."  
"No, Mom,_I_ always do Christmas," Persephone said with a small sneer.  
"Persephone," Ronald said sternly. "Be nice to your mother."

Persephone wanted to bring up how Terry always fell asleep before the meal started, even drunker than normal because of the holidays, and how Ronald was never any better. Nothing she cooked was good enough for him, but if she let him have the choice, the only things she'd get to eat for Christmas would be steamed vegetables. She felt tired of busting her ass for them. Indeed, she planned to prepare food for Christmas, but she'd be taking it straight to the Bakers. If nothing else, they would at least act like they enjoyed her food instead of rolling their eyes at her or passing out on the couch.

The dinner table drowned in silence. Between her and Ronald, silence was expected, but Terry's presence and their previous topic engulfed the table in an unusual tenseness. Persephone's phone rang, unique notification — a riff from the song _Sacrifice_ by The Sewer Gatorz — decimating the quiet and telling her Lucas was calling. Good, she'd have an excuse to get up and leave.

"Look," she said, "I'm going to the Bakers for Christmas and that's that. You two can have Christmas together but I gotta take this call." As she left the kitchen, Terry called to her.  
"That Luke? Ask 'im if we can join you!"  
Right before the threshold to the living room, Persephone stopped dead in her tracks.  
"That yer mom?" Lucas asked.  
She looked disbelievingly over her shoulder at Terry.  
Terry said, "Please? I'd sure like to meet his parents…"

She had to be kidding, right?

With a deep breath to lower her rising blood pressure, Persephone fast-walked out through the front door. On her porch, she sat on the steps to talk to Lucas.

She asked, "What's up?"  
"Did I hear right? Did yer mom just try n' get invited t' do somethin' with us?"  
"Oh, god." She put her face in her hand. "Can we just not? I want this to be the first Christmas where I don't have to deal with my parents."  
"All right, all right," he said quickly. "Don' worry, I'm not here t' try n' convince ya. Just callin' 'cuz Momma wants t' know what all yer bringin'."  
"Convince her of what?" Marguerite's voice sounded farther away.  
"Nothin', Ma," he called. Then he talked back into the phone. "Got a pen and paper right here, so if ya know what yer makin', lemme know."

She sighed, then gave him the list of food she was bringing — stuffing, garlic mashed potatoes, handmade veggie sausages, and apple and pumpkin pie. During her listing, the front door opened and stopped her mid-sentence. Terry came outside.

"Heeyy, hon. Lemme talk t' his mother."  
"I'd really rather you not," she replied curtly, protecting her phone against her chest.  
"C'mon, Persy, I really wanna t' talk t' his mother."

Terry squeezed her fingers into Persephone's protective grip and yanked the phone. Rather than pulling it away and risk knocking her dumb-drunk-ass down the steps, Persephone reluctantly let the phone go. Smiling like a moron, Terry put it up to her ear.

"Hiiii! Luke, right?"  
"Lucas."  
"Lewis, lemme talk t' your mother."

Persephone crossed her arms, listening to the chat between Marguerite and Terry. Not only was her mother embarrassing her by slurring half of her words, but she wound up weaseling her way into their Christmas dinner. Judging by the irritating way she clapped and bounced, Terry had successfully infiltrated dinner with the Bakers.

"Here, baby." She thrust the phone out to Persephone again, nearly hitting her in the face with the damn thing.  
"Gee, thanks…"

She glared at Terry who returned to the house all giddily. When the door shut, she put her ear up to the phone.

"Pers?"  
"Yeah," she returned roughly.  
"Sorry 'bout that."  
"Yeah. Gotta go."  
"Okay."

After hanging up with Lucas, Persephone stomped to her room. She couldn't believe that Terry and Ronald had somehow forced their way into her life again, when she'd once been so excited for dinner at the Bakers. Now that her hope had disappeared, just like that and within only a few agonizing minutes, all she wanted to do was be alone. Once she flung her bedroom door shut behind her, she flopped onto her bed, groaned deeply into her pillow, and wished for death.

* * *

The overcast day was indicative of how this Christmas would end up. She knew Ronald was white-knuckled against the steering wheel and glaring at the road, probably pissy for having to drive several miles on Christmas to a place he'd never been before. Terry had popped an extra happy pill that morning because of Ronald's grumpiness and had a couple of drinks before they left the house, so she wavered in the front seat and smiled like a complete tool. When they pulled up to the main gate, her parents gaped at the massive estate.

"It's so beautiful!" Terry gushed.  
"They rich?" Ronald leaned over the steering wheel to get a good look.  
"Nah. Ancestral house and all," she replied, texting Lucas to let him know they were there.

Lucas met their car at the gate soon after and opened it for them. Ronald pulled in, waited for Lucas to close the gate, then let him lead the way to the garage and carport. He stood outside of Persephone's door and opened his arms wide for her when she got out, but she gave him a look that made him put his arms back down. She and her parents emptied the trunk, pulling out the dishes she had made for the occasion. Lucas tried to take two from her hands. She sneered and held them tight.

"I can carry it myself."  
"I just wanna help ya."  
She glared.  
"Fine." He took his hands away, tossing them in the air defeatedly.  
Terry pushed her dishes into Lucas's chest. "Here, hon, carry these f'r me."

They piled into the garage and headed up the stairs. Persephone glared at the steps the whole way up, avoiding everyone's eyes, wishing it had only been her, Lucas, and his family.

Upon his request at the top of the steps, everyone removed their shoes and put them on the shoe rack before stepping through the threshold, and into Christmas heaven. If she hadn't been so damn irritated, Persephone could've fully appreciated the festive decorations. The hallway was decorated with tinsel and fake snow, and directly across from her were the double doors, opened, frame full of wreaths, candy canes, angel wall hangings, and a green and red 'MERRY CHRISTMAS' between the frame and the ceiling. Her home never even had a Christmas tree.

Inside of the dining room, the table was replaced with a much longer one, making it somewhat cramped inside. A spread of food covered the table atop the flamboyant Christmas tablecloth. Their coats and scarves littered the coat rack in the hall.

Jack approached, talking to Lucas first. "Go on n' put this food right there on the table." He pointed, letting Lucas walk by and put down what he was carrying.  
Terry smiled crookedly, shaking Jack's hand. "Hi, you must be Jack. Terry Black. Oh," she giggled, "that rhymes."

Introductions. Good. Persephone took the chance to sneak past, set the food down in the limited free space, then head to the living room. At the back, a Christmas movie played on the television, overshadowed by the gorgeous tree in the corner. Presents waited to be unwrapped underneath the lit and colorful evergreen — quite a lot of them at that, for how old Marguerite and Jack's kids were. There were childish decorations on the tree, religious decorations, candy canes, beads, tinsel, and fake snow. She once again wished she'd come alone, to fully admire the decorations and the lengths the Bakers went to adorn their home so festively.

Lucas came in with the presents she'd brought over — three modest boxes he'd taken from Ronald.

"Ya didn' hafta get us anythin', ya know," he said, crouching to put them away.  
"Yeah, I know," she replied stuffily, arms crossed and a dead glare at the wall.  
"Are you mad at me?"  
Persephone tried to relax as she looked at him. "No, no I'm not mad at you, Lucas. I'm just… Mad in general. We got forced into inviting my parents and I… I'm not looking forward to dinner, we'll leave it at that."  
"Figured I'd find you two somewhere together," Zoe said as she entered the living room, Santa hat atop her short hair.  
"Hey, Zoe," Persephone said. "Almost forgot about you — you're pretty much never here."  
Zoe smiled. "Sorry 'bout that, Judith and I prefer ta hang out rather than go home."  
Lucas mocked her in one of those classic dopey sibling voices. "That's because you _love her_."  
He made a kissing face and Zoe rolled her eyes, laughing. "Oh, shut it."  
"Wait, is she your girlfriend?" Persephone asked.  
"Shh!" Zoe put a finger to her lips, speaking quietly. "C'mon, you two, don' let Momma n' Daddy find out."  
"Since they're so religious," Lucas added.  
"You think they wouldn't approve?"  
Zoe shrugged. "Dunno. But I'm kinda nervous ta find out. Luckily, no one knows—"  
"Actually," Lucas interrupted, "the whole school knows."  
With a jubilant laugh, Zoe said, "Well, when your brother's the school celebrity, privacy goes out the window. But our _parents_ don't know and that's good enough fer me."

"Lucas, Zoe!" Jack called earnestly from the dining room. "Time ta eat!"  
"You, too, young lady," Ronald said.

Persephone took her seat between Zoe and Lucas on one side of the table with her parents on the other. Marguerite and Jack sat at the ends and the entire family held hands to say grace. This time, Persephone knew when the Amen was coming, so after Marguerite finished, she was able to say it in unison. Ronald didn't try.

Everyone piled food onto their plates, arms everywhere, hands grabbing for everything. Persephone watched the slight chaos — she wasn't used to it since her dinners typically only involved her and Ronald — and took the foods closest to her until everyone else was mostly finished.

Jack said, "You're not gonna eat any a' this ham here, Lucas?"  
"Umm…" Lucas hesitated.  
"I, for one," Ronald said as he cut himself some ham, "am glad that my holidays finally involve some meat."  
Persephone held onto her irritated sigh and instead glared down at her food.  
Lucas refused the ham when Jack tried to hand him the plate. "No thanks, Dad."  
Ronald harrumphed rather loudly.

Meanwhile, on her other side, Zoe and Marguerite conversed.  
"How are things with Judith?" Marguerite asked.  
Zoe took a particularly long drink of her water, then replied, "Good. Real good, we been studyin' a lot, both our grades 'r up. Can't wait 'til you see my report card."  
Terry sighed longingly. "Been so long since I had a girlfriend of my own."  
Zoe froze, losing control of her fork and frantically trying to get it back before it clinked to the floor.  
Marguerite then offered a bright smile. "Maybe you and I can go out with a couple of my girlfriends sometime, Terry."  
Ronald interjected coldly, "Maybe you would have girlfriends if you got out of the house more, honey."  
Terry glared at him. "And maybe you wouldn't have so many if you stayed home more, _dear._"  
"We're not doing this now," Ronald replied, voice calm, but Persephone noticed the grip on his fork tightened.  
Persephone put her face in her hand, fingers rubbing her eyes. "Mom, Dad, can we _please_ change the subject?"  
"This doesn't involve you, young lady."

Then there was silence. That worked, too. At least if they stayed quiet for the rest of dinner, Persephone could avoid further embarrassment in front of Lucas. When she looked up from her palm, she saw her father scooping some of her homemade stuffing onto his plate. Weird. With all of the 'normal' food upon the table, she figured he would've avoided hers. She observed him as he took a few bites.

"Stuffing's kind of dry," he muttered.  
_Fuck you._ Persephone took a big bite of what she'd put on her plate — too big for her to even snap back with a compliment to her food.  
"Tastes great to me," Lucas said.  
Saved. She'd have to thank him later.

Conversations from there went on fairly normally. The Bakers did most of the talking and Persephone found herself envying their relationships. Jack was quite like her own father in all the ways that mattered — stern, hard-working, not afraid to speak his mind — but he had qualities that balanced him, like his fairness, willingness to listen, and compassion. Marguerite was exactly what her mother always tried to be but could never quite get down — she was much gentler, with smiles less fake; one of the most thoughtful people Persephone had ever met. Not Terry, on her third glass of wine and getting less and less coherent as time went on.

Lucas had still not put anything aside from Persephone's dishes, the sauerkraut, and an assortment of vegetables on his plate, and Zoe was constantly dodging questions about Judith (which Marguerite seemed really insistent on asking). Once everyone was too full to eat anymore, the Bakers got up and started clearing the table to make room for the desserts. Persephone helped as well, embarrassedly watching her parents argue quietly in their seats.

Some of the desserts were being kept warm in the oven, like Persephone's apple pie and Marguerite's cookies. The pumpkin pie and cake were brought out of the fridge, along with the two different kinds of whipped cream. By the time she returned to the table, her parents were sitting in silence, Terry with arms crossed tightly and Ronald, now sitting nearer the edge of his seat with feet flat on the floor, seemed ready to leave.

Once again, Ronald avoided all of Persephone's food, but Lucas ate them exclusively. She'd have to thank him for that later. All of the Bakers and her mother tried her pies, especially the crust-free apple pie, which consisted of caramelized apples with peanut butter flavored oats, cinnamon, and caramel sauce. She'd made one for everybody but one lay left behind on the tray…

Jack then said, "I see you haven't eaten your daughter's apple pie."  
She wanted to speak up and tell Jack to just drop it, but she wasn't sure how to without sounding rude.  
Ronald replied, "Yes, I suppose you're right."

Still, he picked it up and unexpectedly set it on his plate, then grabbed not for Persephone's whipped cream but for the Bakers'. The 'normal' whipped cream, he'd call it. The whole table leaned a bit closer, everyone's eating halted. She guessed that, much like herself, everyone waited for someone to say something or for Ronald to take a bite, whichever came first. With a stone-faced expression, Ronald tried a piece.

He simply said, "I prefer it with the crust."  
She noted Lucas's right hand clench hard on his spoon but before he could say anything, Jack beat him to it.  
"You know, Ronald, you done nothin' but criticize your daughter all night. Least you could do as her father is compliment what she made fer ya."  
Ronald's harsh gaze shot toward him. "And who are you to tell me how I should and shouldn't raise my own daughter?"  
"I'm a father a' two with a lovely daughter of my own. I don't think the constant criticism is good for either of my kids and I would especially never do that to my Zoe."  
"So you think you're a better father than me?" Ronald asked, still as calm as Jack, though his glare was far deadlier. "My daughter is always top of the class, in academics and martial arts. I didn't train her to get this way by babying her for her entire life."  
"Top 'f th' class!" Terry slurred, raising her glass exuberantly into the air. She'd had her fourth or fifth or sixth glass of wine, leaving her face red.

Marguerite and Zoe whispered about his use of the word 'train'. Persephone had her face in her hands, elbows on the table though she knew full well there was a strict no-elbows rule. She didn't care about that. She just wanted everyone to shut up. But it wouldn't be so simple.

"I think that says a lot about you," Jack responded, face and voice equally as collected. "How you parent, how you see your daughter."  
"Jack, please," Marguerite said softly.  
"I'm sorry, Marguerite, but I can't just sit here and watch Ronald belittle his daughter. It ain't right."  
Ronald spat back, "It's also not right to lecture your guests about how they parent. I should've known people who live in a _swamp_ can't have very good manners."  
"Dad!" Persephone shot to her feet. "That's so incredibly rude!"  
"Sit down, young lady."  
"I'm not gonna sit here and let you talk to these nice people like that!"  
"Young lady, I demand that you sit down."  
"Oh yeah? Well, I _demand_ that you apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Baker for being so completely nasty and rude."  
Ronald also stood, silverware clanking to his plate. "You're out of line, Persephone."  
"_I'm_ out of line?" She jabbed her finger his way, talking with aggressive hand motions. "I'm not the one insulting people just because they give a crap about the way you talk to me. This is why I didn't want to spend Christmas with you and Mom, and why I didn't want to invite you out here in the first place."  
He scrutinized her, eyes squinted, nostrils flared, then he shook his head. "We're leaving, right now. Terry."

Ronald grabbed Terry's arm and tugged her stumbling to her feet. He whipped around with her, stormed out of the dining room, and snatched their jackets and scarves off the rack. But with Persephone's footsteps not behind him, Ronald stopped.

"Persephone. I said we're leaving."  
She defiantly crossed her arms.  
Ronald turned to her. "_Now_, young lady."  
"No."  
"What did you just say to me?"  
"I said _no_. I'm not leaving."  
"Persy," Terry said softly. "C'mon, hon, le's jus' go."  
"I'm _not_ leaving. I wanna be here for Christmas."  
"Persephone Mildred Black," Ronald demanded, his voice raised. "You are coming home with us this instant."

Her body shook. She tried to stay calm but her body and mind were betraying her. She wanted to tell Ronald to fuck off and even though she knew it would be rude to do in front of Marguerite and Jack, the battle to hold back quickly unraveled. Lucas stood and put his arms around her.

"She said she's _not leavin_'."

Ronald glared at Lucas, a look Persephone knew all too well — he'd done it to plenty of people before. And those people didn't get second chances.

"Thanks for the food," he said forcefully. Then they left without another word.

After a few moments of silence, aside from the garage door opening and closing, Persephone excused herself and left the room, heading down the hallway.

She walked blindly, aimless in her path, just wanting to disappear from the embarrassment and humiliation. Her Christmas ruined, her mood ruined, the entire dinner ruined; she could've crawled into a hole and died there. The dinner played in her mind over and over and a propulsive need to retreat moved her legs.

Persephone stopped at the end tables before the double doors. Lucas smiled back, his picture prominent among the others. She couldn't look at him. She had to turn away, walking through the open doors and into the foyer. Still unsure of her destination, mind boiling with thoughts of her parents fucking up everything for her, she paced.

Soon, she found herself sitting on the balcony overlooking the foyer, not really remembering how or why she'd come up there. She stuck her legs through the banister's railings, her forehead pressed against one as she tried to clear her head. If she let it all get to her, there would be no way of preserving her evening.

From her vantage point, she saw Lucas come into the room and search around. She didn't want to talk about dinner but, at the same time, she hoped he'd spot her, comfort her. After looking up the stairs, he did indeed see her and come up. He sat beside her.

"Sorry 'bout yer mom n' dad."  
"No, I'm glad they're gone," she said, hands on the bars. "I'm just sorry that I ruined dinner."  
"You kiddin'? This was the most excitin' Christmas dinner I've ever had. Usually, it's all quiet n' sucky."  
"Dude, shut up," Persephone said with a solemn laugh. She reached over and hugged him.  
"Yer dad's a real asshole."  
She slowly moved away, hand still touching his knee. "Yeah… He's always been like that."  
"And I thought _my_ dad could be an asshole."  
"Yeah, well, Jack probably wants to be a dad. I don't think my dad does."  
"Why d'ya say that?"  
"Well…" Memories resurfaced as she thought of the best one to choose. "Quite a few reasons. One time, when I was little, I heard them arguing — apparently my mom lied to him about being on birth control and he said I'd been an accident waiting to happen. Then another — when they were arguing, of course — he said he got 'roped into all of this'. I was too young to get it then, but as I got older I knew what he meant. Because my mom wasn't on birth control, he got roped into having _me_."

There was a pause before Lucas said, "Wow."  
"Not much more to say other than that."  
He put his arm around her shoulders. "So that's why yer family's so fucked up."  
"Yep. Welcome to my Christmas every year."  
"Not this year." He tugged her closer. "Yer still here n' they're long gone. We can fin'lly get this Christmas a-rollin'."  
She laughed through her nose. "Check out Mr. Optimist all of a sudden."  
"Yeah, ya make me say weird shit, Pers. C'mon, let's go back n' enjoy the rest of yer fuckin' awesome dessert."

When they returned, the family was waiting for them, and the conversation became much more lively. Marguerite asked her for recipes and Jack and Zoe laughed away at a joke Zoe made. The men of the table had seconds and thirds but all Persephone managed was an extra plate of her whipped cream. Now that things were light and fun, Persephone complimented the decorations and gushed over the food. She finished writing down the recipes for Marguerite and everyone migrated into the living room to open presents.

Persephone fondly regarded the family from her spot on the couch as they exchanged gifts from under the tree; Marguerite and Jack to their children, the kids to their parents. There were a few from cousins, uncles, and aunts that had their own dinners to attend but had still been thoughtful enough to send gifts. When was the last time Persephone had gotten a present that wasn't a new textbook or an article of clothing she'd been needing? When was the last time she'd gotten a gift that was personal and meant something? Even Zoe and Lucas had bought each other presents, though they were cheap shirts trying to one-up the other. His was a black shirt with white text that read 'World's Okayest Brother' — hers had a 'Sister For Sale' sign, with sale crossed out and free scribbled over top it. Persephone laughed at those — they were her favorites.

Soon, only a few presents remained, and she noticed that not only were hers to the family still left, but there were extras. When Lucas reached under the tree and handed them to her, she realized they were gifts _the family_ had gotten _for her_. She looked disbelievingly at the two wrapped presents.

"Weren't expectin' that, were ya?" Lucas teased, returning to his seat beside her.

Not at all. They let her open the presents — one from Jack and Marguerite, and one from Zoe, both modest, wrapped with cutesy reindeer and Christmas tree paper, topped with small pastel ribbons tied into bows. She opened Zoe's first. Inside of the light pink tissue paper was a dark, bat-shaped brooch. Persephone picked it up and examined it. The fake jewels shimmered greens and purples in certain kinds of light.

"Thought it would be cute for your li'l backpack," said Zoe, standing behind her.  
"It's adorable, Zoe, thank you," she said, somewhat awkwardly.

It was the first time in a long time that she felt awkward. She'd at first thought it strange that she'd brought them presents, but was glad she did, otherwise she'd feel like an asshole. She put the brooch away and enclosed it in the box, set it next to her, then opened the present from Jack and Marguerite. Its pastel yellow and green tissue paper enveloped a pair of lavender colored socks, obviously hand-stitched but high quality. A pink P was sewn into the sides. Great. More awkwardness. Should she put them on? God, the colors, though… But they really did that — or Marguerite, most likely — just for her? She felt her eyes burn, threatening to tear up as she talked.

"Wow, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Baker. This is really cool," she said, a hint of shock in her voice.

In that split second, she decided to swap out her old black socks and try on the new ones. They were much softer and didn't have any holes, unlike her other ones where the heels were destroyed. She wanted to say something else but too desperately held onto her emotions to risk trying. Just when she didn't think she could take anymore, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lucas holding up a small gift in the palm of his hand. His cheeks were pink as he waited for her to take it. She did and opened it, repeatedly telling herself not to cry. The wrapping paper from his was more her style — black and white stripes, nothing else on it.

She opened this one carefully to ensure the paper didn't get ripped. A small grey box under the wrappings; when she opened it, she saw a circular charm representing a miniature Ouija board. The charm was attached to a silver chain. He really got her a present? A necklace. And a Ouija board, too — because she likes horror movies and creepy things? God, what a dork. What an absolutely beautiful dork. She giggled at the gift, from disbelief and her rising emotions.

"This is so—" she had to stop herself from cursing (and crying), "—so cute, Lucas. I love it." She reached around behind her neck, struggling briefly to clasp it. Lucas helped fasten the necklace. Persephone flicked her hair back and looked down to observe the gorgeous gift he'd gotten her. And her lovely new socks. "And you know what?" she said, grabbing Zoe's gift again and pinning the brooch to her shirt. "There we go."

The family laughed pleasantly with her. Laughter. On Christmas eve. She couldn't believe it and couldn't wait for the family to see her presents now. Jack opened his and Marguerite's soon after, and Zoe opened hers. She'd gotten Jack and Marguerite a set of antique keys sewn into a rustic-looking seafoam green fabric; wall decor. Zoe got a small plush toy, a skeleton dressed as a black cat.

"This is feeling less like Christmas and more like Halloween," Zoe said as she examined her new toy.  
Persephone proudly declared, "Happy Halloween, everyone."

The family had another good laugh at that. When everyone quieted down, they waited for Lucas to open his present from her. He'd gotten the paper off and underneath was a wooden rectangular box. A puzzle box, about the size of his phone but much deeper. The top had three revolvable circles, unreachable behind a plastic coating, with a 12 on the top and a 6 on the bottom. One side had a metal handle that he could use to move the lid up and down only a bit to see some more metal on the inside but nothing else. Below the handle were four different dominoes carved into the wood.

"Well, how do ya solve it?" Zoe asked.  
"I just got the thing, gimme a minute," he grumbled.

She watched him fiddle with it, examining the bottom and sides, but it was just wood. Something rolled around inside, though — a subtle movement he wouldn't have heard if the room wasn't dead quiet.

Marguerite was the first to break the silence. "I'm gonna give him privacy and clean up the kitchen."

Persephone followed the family to help clean up, with Lucas staying behind to work on the puzzle. She checked in on him every now and again, seeing his progress — she'd seen how it was solved by the seller so the anticipation was killing her. He'd open it at some point that night, though. He was too smart to be stumped for very long.

Once everything had calmed and the home had been cleaned, the family turned out the lights and watched a Christmas movie that played that evening. Lucas still hadn't figured out the puzzle but Persephone kept an eye on him. It wasn't anything grand or special inside of that box; more simple, straight-forward. As they sat on the floor beside the couch, he rocked the box back and forth, rolling the ball around inside, which was the final step now that he'd gotten it to the last layer.

She heard the unmistakable click of him finding the solution. He opened it to reveal the mechanisms inside and another section of the box, plain and easy to open. Pillowed in grey tissue paper lay a tiny, black, plush heart. She put her hand on his knee, leaning closer to him. He carefully shut the box, then whispered in her ear.

"My room. Now."

* * *

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	11. Christmas Aftermath

_All characters involved in the following sex scene are 18 years of age or older._

**_S_**he snuck around the back of the couch with him, walked silently through the dining room that still smelled of Christmas dinner, and into the hall. When she attempted to head up the stairs, he grabbed her waist, fingers digging delightfully into her hips.

"No, no, that's my old room," he whispered in her ear, warm breath tickling her skin. "I got somethin' even better. Get yer shoes n' jacket, we need t' cross the backyard."

Cross the backyard to get to his room? Okay then. Wouldn't be the weirdest thing she experienced that evening. She gathered her dressings and followed him, covering herself and slipped her shoes on by the door, then went outside with him. She'd seen it all before — Zoe's cute little trailer, the guest house, the path leading to the old house — but they'd mostly stuck to the front yard, garage, and barn. It was dark out and she carefully tread across the sloshing Louisiana terrain, following his lead as he walked her across the way to the other section of the house.

"Your room is detached from the rest of the house?" she questioned.  
"What can I say? When Zoe got the trailer, I was jealous I had to sleep in the 'Kid's Room'," he said as she went with him up the stairs, which were covered in lattice on the one side with the house on the other. "So Momma said 'long as I keep it clean n' come inside fer breakfast n' dinner, she don' mind me usin' this part a' the house."  
Persephone snickered. "That's a strange house ya got there."  
He unlocked the door and held it open for her. "Just wai'til ya see the inside."

While she took the lead, his hungry hands held onto her hips, fingertips digging into her skin, the box in his hoodie pocket against her back. He needn't be in front as the halls led her the right direction — this house and its hallways. She didn't realize a house could have so many of them. Switches lined the way so Lucas could flick them on and off as he went, making sure they could always see where they were going. She hadn't expected such a long walk to his room.

Eventually, she came upon a set of stairs, heading down. Across from them, another set led returned up, but there was a door on the left-hand wall he stopped her for, hands on her hips leading her along. He flicked the switches near the threshold; one turned the lights on in the room and the other turned the hall lights off.

"You got yourself one fancy set-up with these lights," Persephone said.  
"Yeah, it's a real workout gettin' from here t' breakfast every mornin'."

Looked like they'd walked into a storage room, with a couch here, a chair there, furniture all in good condition shoved into the corners. She sighed — how long was this gonna take?

"Almost there," he said in her ear. His nose nuzzled against her hair.  
Persephone teased, "You better make this worth it."  
He grabbed her breasts and squeezed them hard. "Oh, don' worry, I'll have you screamin'."

He nudged her through the threshold across the other side where a larger panel of switches hid around the corner. A light to her right flicked on, everywhere else still bathed in darkness giving her a clear direction. Finally.

Inside of this hopefully last room sat a full-bed against the back wall; beside it, a nightstand and an alarm clock that showed the time: 9:47 pm. A mirrored dresser was set-up across from the bed, lined with several unlit candles. Candles, eh? She nipped at her bottom lip. He'd planned this since the beginning, hadn't he? Sly dog.

"Take yer shoes off," he said plainly.  
"Yeah, yeah, this house and shoes," she teased, kicking hers to the side.

She traipsed toward the mirror to fix her glasses and hair while he put his puzzle box atop the dresser and dug into one of the drawers. He took out a lighter and lit the candles. What a romantic. When the candles were lit, he shut off the bedroom light and slowly sauntered behind her. Mood lighting, too? He was going to spoil her tonight.

His hands ran along her shoulders and to her long, wavy hair, gently brushing it back to reveal her neck. He kissed her cheek, stubble running along her skin; rough, carnal, and so delectably erotic. She observed him watching her in the mirror. Every kiss down her jaw and neck sent a pleasant chill along her back and she leaned into his chest, sighing contentedly.

"I'm thinkin' we should put up a couple of safe words," he said into her ear.  
She laughed softly. "Think I'll need them?"  
"Oh trust me, ya will."

They decided on "time-out" or three taps on whatever she could get to if she couldn't speak, where he would slow whatever he was doing and ease up. For the time, the word to stop everything and for him to pull out was a simple, loud "stop" or three hard grunts if she couldn't speak, until she gave him further instruction — verbal or otherwise

With their boundaries set, Lucas led her toward the bed, still kissing her neck, so warm behind her. He grabbed her shoulders, hands running down her arms and to her wrists. Lucas yanked them behind her back, holding them in one hand while the other shoved her down; knees to the floor and body pressed hard into the mattress.

"Fuck," she moaned, "I love the way you dominate me."  
"Yeah, you love it when I make ya feel like a weak little bitch," he snarled in her ear, smirk obvious in his voice.  
"God, yes."

He kept her wrists held firm, other hand moving her hair and positively melting her by nipping and sucking on the side of her neck. His nips soon turned to bites, which turned to him gnashing his teeth into her skin, making her shout and wriggle. The pain quickly melded to ecstasy — she couldn't wait for him to really rough her up. She'd allow him to do whatever he wanted to her. He tore her pants off, forcing her legs spread. His hand came down on her ass, slap echoing in the room, followed by her pathetic squeak at the pain.

"No panties again, Pers? If I didn' know any better, I'd say you were a fuckin' whore." He snickered, slapping her ass again.  
"I am, Lucas," she agreed breathlessly. "I'm _your_ fucking whore."  
"Damn right you are."

He shoved himself between her legs and bit her neck hard again, causing screams to erupt from her chest. She wanted to speak, let him know how much she loved it, but as these bites continued down her back, onto her shoulders, and over the small love handles on her right side, even through her shirt, she couldn't find the words. She could only shout and instinctively pull away from the explosive pain, but his free arm wrapped around her hips and forced her into him. He released her wrists and trailed his love bites down to her ass and along the backs of her thighs, holding her down by her hips to keep her jerking body still. It hurt like hell, sending ripples of mind-rending pain through every inch of her. She had to call it.

"Agh, time-out, time-out!"  
"Aww," he patronized and pinched her ass cheek. "Can't handle it, Pers?"  
She panted. "Just… Just gimme a sec."

While she recovered, his tongue explored her pussy, dipping inside of her. He sucked and nipped at her lips, then up to her asshole, his tongue cold in comparison to her warm hole. The sensation felt odd but she allowed it, curious to see where it would go. His tongue swirled around the hole, a wet massage that made her murmur his name, hoping it would encourage him to continue his rough assault on her body. He smirked against her skin and returned his teeth to the backs of her thighs, making her squeal and flinch; she allowed — no, she relished in the torment. After a few rough bites, he stopped and licked over the marks he left as her mind dizzied.

Then Lucas stood, demanding a simple, "Stay."

He went to his nightstand and she turned her head to watch him. Inside of his nightstand, he searched until he seemed to find what he needed: a bottle of lube. He repositioned himself behind her, snapping her back to reality with another stinging, pain-filled slap.

She grunted the pain away. "Not just going in raw this time? What a gentleman."  
"Well, let's just say…" A lubed finger slipped deep into her asshole, making her gasp. He tittered. "Ya wouldn't be able t' handle it if I did."  
"W-wait." She quivered at the foreign feeling. "We're trying _that_ tonight?"  
"I thought we could for Christmas." He clicked his tongue disappointedly. "You don' wannu?"

The feeling of his finger toying inside her was odd, but pleasurable. She found herself liking it, but questioned the thickness and length of his cock. What was once a bragging right now felt like a curse. A second finger slipped in as he waited impatiently for her answer, stretching her hole. There was some pain involved in just his two fingers alone but as he twisted them slowly around inside her, she was overcome with a warm, rising bliss. It would probably hurt to take him at first, but maybe it would be worth it.

"Just be easy, please," she said.  
"Bitch, shut up," he snapped playfully. "I'll do whatever I want with you."

* * *

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* * *

"Told ya I'd have ya screamin'." Lucas pulled out, making her whimper and moan.  
"Yep, I'll be paying for it tomorrow." Her exhausted body couldn't find the energy to move, leaving her stuck in her position. "Can't move… Can't feel my legs."

He chuckled, moving her across the bed so she could lay comfortably against his pillow, then he collapsed beside her, spooning her. He tiredly discarded his hoodie and his arms held her close,

She said, "Maybe we wouldn't be so sweaty if we took our clothes off before fucking."  
"Ya know I ain't got the patience fer that."

His breath hit her ear as they lay in his bed, sending pleasing tingles along her shoulders and back. He was the first to fall asleep, though she wasn't far behind, letting the memories of their Christmas together lull her into slumber. Spending time with Lucas made it the best Christmas ever.


	12. Diving in Deeper

"**_A_**ll A's," Ronald said as he sat in his armchair and read over Persephone's grades. She stood behind him, resisting the urge to tap her foot. The question was coming at some point this weekend, but she didn't know exactly when. He fixed his glasses, studying her over them and making her sweat. He continued, "Very good marks in Physics. I expected nothing less. And I see that you've been offered scholarships to a couple of medical schools in the area. Which will you be going to?"

This was it: the time she had to give Ronald the truth. She took a deep breath.

"I'm going to Dulvey Community College."  
The grimace in his expression said it all, but that didn't stop him from using his words. "No, you're not."  
"But that's what I want."  
"I will not see my daughter going to some rinky-dink community college."  
"It's not rinky-dink, it has a perfectly valid medical program."  
"This is all because of that _boy_ isn't it?" He carefully stood from his chair, calm and menacing presence towering over her. "He's not smart enough to get a scholarship of his own, so he's dragging you down with him."  
Persephone was ready for this reaction and shot back. "That's a completely baseless assumption. The fact of the matter is that we _both_ decided to go to community college together."  
"Absolutely not."  
"You can't force me to go to a certain college."

Her phone's unique notification went off.

"That boy's texting you, I see," Ronald sneered.  
She glared at him. "His _name_ is Lucas and we're making plans—"  
"My daughter will not be dragged down by a _hillbilly_!"

She bit her tongue, wanting only to scream in his face, defend Lucas, tell Ronald to fuck off. But it would cause a huge argument when all she wanted to do was make her point and answer the message.

She turned on her heel to leave. "I'm going to DCC. You can try to change my mind when I come back."  
"I do _not_ think so, young lady!" He shouted.

Rarely did Ronald ever raise his voice but Persephone refused to be shaken. Even as he stepped in front of the front door to block her exit, she kept her cool.

He continued shouting. "You've been completely out of line ever since you met this boy and I'm tired of it!"  
"Maybe I'm just growing up, did y'all ever think of that?"

It took her a moment to comprehend why Ronald held such a shocked expression on his normally cold face: y'all. She tried not to smirk. He seemed utterly speechless at first, but he eventually blurted out his next thoughts.

"I can't believe you just said that to me. That—that redneck slang. That boy's going to take you down with him, just you wait."  
"Noted. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She slipped underneath his arm and out the door, slamming it behind her before he could react. Then she checked her phone. Lucas had good timing.

_'How'd it go with your dad?'_  
She laughed through her nose. _'Horribly'_  
_'Figured as much. You all right?'_  
_'Better than ever, I can't wait for our first semester'_  
_'Hell yeah. Never thought I'd be happy to start college'_

Persephone giggled at his message, cruising along the sidewalk. How could she even put into words that she felt the same way, that she was excited to start what felt like the rest of their lives together? Before she could text him anything, though, a message popped up. From Oliver.

_'hope ur bf isn't planning on coming to school monday'_  
She responded fast._ 'What are you talking about?'_  
_'he'll regret it'_

She held her tongue (rather, her fingers), mulling it over. She hoped to have high school end peacefully. The year had been going great and she wanted it to stay that way. All she could think to do to prevent total disaster was dial Oliver's number and call him.

Oliver's home seemed relatively normal: an average-sized house, right in the middle of the section of houses, with a perfectly square postage stamp yard. Persephone anxiously surveyed the area, trying to calm down. The neighborhood was a bit woodsy. Oliver had a nice porch, well-decorated with wicker chairs and a glass-top table, a fancy black railing, and a small crack up the middle of the stone stairs. Overall, unimpressive and bland. A tree hung over the top of his small awning, no fence in the front yard — though the backyard had a battered, weather-worn privacy fence.

She breathed easy. This probably wasn't going to go very well, but she had no choice. She reread her last texts. One of them was to Lucas _'gtg, talk to you in a bit'_, with his response being a simple _'ok'_. The other was Oliver's address, prior message was her asking for it, and before that… Their call. He'd sounded like he wanted to kick _her_ ass during that call but had graciously accepted her request for a chat. And, by graciously, he'd told her that she was "a dumb cunt" who could try to change his mind even though she "has no idea". He seemed pretty hellbent on fighting Lucas but she was going to put a stop to that.

She approached the discolored door and knocked. He didn't make her wait for very long — the door opened and Oliver stood before her, wispy blonde hair bright in the sun. He stepped aside, tone of his next words deadly serious.

"Get in."  
She did so, hand in her pocket, grasping her phone.

She stepped into a very cluttered living room; a dirty couch, a rocking chair, a table lined with cigarettes, soda cans, ash and ashtrays, television across the way surrounded by boxes and plastic tubs of crap. It all hit her at once just how messy and unmaintained the house was. Her nose crinkled from the smells of grime and cigarettes as her burning eyes scanned everything they could. Pathways seemed to be the only way around the house, leading to the kitchen, the seats, and the staircase for the upper-story.

"Sit," he said curtly, disrupting her overwhelmed senses.

She followed a path to the rocking chair and sat on its layer of dust. He chose the couch near her, plopping his socked feet up on the table. Oliver pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.

"So, go on, gimme one good reason why I shouldn't kick Baker's ass."  
Persephone took a deep breath, smelling the must, and tried to focus on her task at hand. She spoke calmly. "Because he's not interested in fucking with you."  
"Don't care." Oliver took a drag off his cigarette. When he spoke, he let the smoke unfurl from his lips. "He shouldn't 'a started it."  
"Isn't that a little childish? He's been trying to let it go, why can't you?"  
Oliver's feet stomped onto the ground as he leaned toward her, voice low but ferocious. "An' who are you ta tell me ta let it go? Callin' _me_ childish. You're just some stupid bitch, ya don't even _know_ what happened. Even if that autistic jerk-off told ya, he sure as hell wouldn't give ya the full story."

She wondered indeed what the full story was. Lucas said he'd planned on killing Oliver when they were children, but what did that entail? She hadn't asked about it since then, knowing the subject upset him. For now, however, her entire mission was to talk Oliver out of doing something stupid, so she returned to the present.

"You know, you'll be free of Lucas after graduation. If you fuck with him now, you're just making more work for yourself down the line — court hearings, possible incarceration."  
"Look," he said, chin lifted as he observed her through narrowing eyes. "I ain't gonna let that little shithead get away with what he did to me. This is my last chance—"  
"For what, _prison_? If you haven't noticed by now, idiot, you both can be tried as adults—"  
"Kiss my ass!" He shouted, shooting up from his seat. "Always defendin' him an' shit! Yer just as fuckin' crazy!"

Another voice rang from upstairs. "OLIVER! Quit all that yellin'! And don'chu dare curse in my house!" Then there was a loud stomp on the ground.  
"Sorry, Gramma," Oliver called, with an eye-roll that could give Persephone's a run for its money.  
The elderly woman's shrill voice yelled, "Do I need ta babysit you like yer a toddler?!"  
"No," he said to her shortly.  
"I swear, if ya can't act like an adult, then how could ya think yer ready ta graduate!?"  
"Christ…" He swore under his breath.

Well then… Persephone didn't know how to respond to that, so she stayed quiet. Oliver motioned for Persephone to follow him, with his grandmother shouting the entire time ("yer so immature!" was tossed around, ironically enough). Persephone tread behind him and he led her back to the front door, stepping onto the porch with her. He shut the door behind them, thankfully muffling his grandmother's incessant yelling.

They sat at the wicker table, Oliver taking a few deep breaths of fresh air.

She tried to bring the conversation back after… Whatever just happened there. "You said I don't know the full story. Why don't you tell me?"  
He interjected with a sharp, brusque laugh. "Suck my dick, then I'll consider it."  
She'd rather rip it off. "C'mon, Oliver, don't do this. Do you really wanna risk getting expelled right before graduation?"

He paused, leaning back into his seat with his fingers steepled, observing her. The smoke from his still-lit cigarette made her head ache.

"Ya wanna know what happened?" He asked, the cold look in his eye reminding her quite a bit of Ronald. "Wanna know how fucked up yer boyfriend really is? That bastard almost killed me an' yer askin' me to just move on. Dumb bitch, ya don't know _shit_."

Her retaliation rose in her throat but she swallowed it back. "Then tell me."

She remained in her seat, just… Waiting. He said nothing. Not a single damn word. Her mind screamed at her to force the information out of him somehow, but that would get her nowhere. She needed to wait, be patient, figure out how to make him comfortable enough to spill the beans without making things worse. Oliver smoked his cigarette painfully slow as he looked across the way at nothing in particular. Persephone glanced to be sure there wasn't something important going on over there that would distract him and make her waste her goddamned time.

"If yer that fuckin' interested," he said abruptly, still not looking at her, "strap in, 'cuz this story's wild."

He tossed his cigarette near the ashtray on the glass-top table, then he went into his story. "Started a long time ago. We were seven, I think. April som'in', whenever his birthday is. Invited me over for his party — said he had some hidden presents in the attic an' we went off to check it out. He made me climb up first, then shut the attic behind me." Oliver lit a fresh cigarette. He took a long drag off it, hands trembling somewhat, then said, "Hate thinkin' about it. Swear I was up there for hours, bangin' on the floor, hopin' someone could hear me screamin'. Obviously they did. Cops got involved an' everythin' — sick fuck was gonna leave me up there to die, he told the cops the whole story. Wrote about it in his creepy little journals, too. Even wrote about how I died an' decomposed up there — seriously fuckin' disturbed shit. 'S why the whole school can't stand him, we all know he's fucked in the head. 'Cept you, 'pparently."

Well, that was certainly a story she'd never have gotten from Lucas's mouth. In a way, she was glad to have satiated her curiosity, but in another more rational way, the story put a pit in her stomach. Lucas hadn't been lying when he accidentally let slip that he planned on killing Oliver. His journals apparently outlined it. She would've given anything to read some of the entries right then and there. Would he have gone through with it? He'd told the cops everything, seemingly without much or any hesitation.

"Nothin' ta say, I see," Oliver said, interrupting her thoughts.  
"Just taking it all in."  
Oliver shook his head. "Yer outta yer damn mind."  
"So I've heard," she mumbled, laughing through her nose.  
"Yer playin' with fire, stickin' with Crazy. He's bad news, an' he belongs locked up in juvie, or prison better yet. Safer for everyone that way."

It was difficult to argue that Lucas was unhinged. She knew it, the whole school knew it — she could've surmised that from the first week at Dulvey High. She knew about the fantasies, of course, but to have them so specified… She tried to look for any sign that Oliver was lying. He had good reason to exaggerate and demonize Lucas, but given his smoking, his shaking hands, and the thousand-yard stare present on his pale face as he'd explained what had happened so long ago, it was all a chilling reminder of what Persephone was getting herself into. Lucas really was one twisted little fuck. Sadistic. The thought of him caused a sneaking warmth to rise in her groin that she had to will away. Maybe she, too, was one twisted little fuck.

"I think that's it," Oliver said, standing.  
She stood, too. "Not really. I'm still trying to talk you out of being a moron."  
He shook his head, though it seemed more out of disbelief than anything else as he said, "All right. Tell ya what. Keep Baker outta my sight and I _won't_ kick his ass. But I see him? It's fuckin' over. Got it?"

He made his way to the front door and she trotted closely behind.

She questioned, "You expect me to trust that?"  
"I'm gonna pretend that twisted fuck doesn't exist." He opened his front door and stepped inside, facing her the entire time. "That's it."  
"That's not convinc—"  
"Keep 'im away from me. Take it or leave it, bitch."

The door slammed shut in her face. She took a deep breath; 3 days where she'd have to keep Lucas away from him. She could manage that, right?

Persephone didn't tell Lucas about her conversation with Oliver. She wasn't sure what his reaction would be but didn't want him to worry or get upset. So she kept it a secret in hopes that he wouldn't have to find out, that they could move on and be done with it. Throughout Monday, Persephone would see Oliver coming around the corner on occasion and would tear Lucas into the nearest exit — a closet, a corner, even the boy's room once. She played it off as a bout of excitement; yanking him into her, pressing their bodies together, attacking him with rough kisses.

This time, he'd been ripped into a broom closet and her tongue was in his mouth before the door fully shut. He kissed her back at first but broke their kiss soon after.

"Pers," he said, softly pushing her back. "Not that I'm not really excited 'bout all this, but… What is goin' on?"  
"What d'you mean?" She asked, fists grabbing his hoodie. "You just turn me on."  
"That's really hot n' all, but I think yer givin' me whiplash…" He rubbed the back of his neck.  
She laughed softly. "Can't handle me, big guy?"

They skipped Physics that day in favor of a cramped, but fun, lovemaking session in the closet. When they came out, a few of their schoolmates saw them. The rumor that 'Crazy Lucas' was no longer a virgin had been spread so far that even the teachers had to know he and Persephone were fucking. But rumors had slowed with graduation upon them, and seniors at least had more important things to worry about. Conversations became more self-centered, all abuzz over graduation.

Persephone didn't see a reason to care about the actual ceremony, just the fact that now she'd be able to get into medical school and actually have a legitimate, practical education. Even as she stood in her room on graduation day, looking at herself in that dorky-ass cap and gown, it didn't excite her. She'd be happy when it was over.

Persephone made her way down the steps and past her dead-asleep mother with a roll of her eyes — at least Terry wasn't coming to embarrass her. Arms crossed, Ronald tapped his foot by the front door. Mr. Patience, she could've called him. He opened the door for her, took her to the car, and drove her to the graduation ceremony in silence. Why in the hell Ronald wanted to come to graduation was beyond her. To keep up appearances? No. Probably to ensure that she and Lucas didn't get into any trouble. Given his hatred of poor Lucas, she wouldn't be surprised.

At least everyone arrived wearing the same blue dorky cap and gown, with parents having dressed formally, mothers and fathers with cameras and a few with teary eyes. Ronald, by comparison, remained stone-faced and cold. Ugh. Just… Ugh. She couldn't wait to see Lucas and have an actually pleasant conversation, or simply be in the presence of someone less oppressively grumpy.

Just as she thought of him, the family SUV pulled up and parked across the way. Lucas, Jack, Marguerite, and a plainly dressed Zoe exited the vehicle. Persephone plodded toward them, stomach sinking, knowing that Ronald was coming with her in spite of his last interaction with the family.

Marguerite insisted on snapping pictures of Lucas.

"Ma, all right," Lucas said, putting his palm on the lens. "That's enough."  
"I'm sorry, hon." She put the camera away. "You were strugglin' so much at the beginning a' this year and— Well… That's neither here nor there."  
"Yeah, let's just enjoy the _party_," Persephone scowled.

Marguerite instantly got her camera back out and captured pictures of Persephone as well, gushing about how 'beautiful' she looked in her cap and gown. She kept an eye on Ronald who came up beside her, noticing him and Jack exchanging very cold, unneighborly glances.

"Good to see ya, Ronald," said Jack.  
"Jack."

Marguerite shoved her and Lucas together to take pictures of them. Zoe laughed behind her hand.

"Keep laughin', Zoe," said Lucas. "You'll be next, just give it two years."  
"Yeah, but I bet I'll look way cuter than y'all in my gown."  
Persephone couldn't help but chuckle — being around the family lifted her spirits, even just a little. "I know, I know, I look like a dork."  
"Nonsense!" Marguerite dismissed. "You two look so lovely in your li'l gowns n' caps n'— Oh, I can't wait to see you get your diplomas!"  
"Ma," Lucas groaned. "Can we just get t' the field, please?"

Persephone headed there with the group. The field — which was the back of the schoolyard where she remembered aiming her and Lucas's giant slingshot into the woods — was stuffed full of seniors, parents, and teachers all mingling together on the freshly cut lawn. Folding chairs lined the roll-out carpets of blue Dulvey High colors, leading to the old, well-worn, white stage propped up in front of everything.

The chorus of the crowd proved already too much for Persephone; all the talking and chatter would give her a headache for sure. She needed a drink, something to quell her thirst-filled throat and ease her tension. Glancing about, she found tables of food and drink had been set-up, blue tablecloths of several different hues making up the school colors; salvation from Ronald, at least she hoped.

Their parents were ushered off by staff, leaving her, Lucas, and Zoe to go to the snack tables (thank god for that, Persephone couldn't imagine spending the whole day with Ronald breathing down her neck). The tables had all kinds of crap Persephone didn't care for, so she got a plastic cup and filled it with the least offensive soda. While they stood at the table, a girl came up to them, hugged Zoe tightly, then smiled at Lucas and Persephone.

"Hey guys," she said casually.  
"Hey Judith," Lucas replied, soda in hand.

Persephone hadn't seen Judith before and had been unaware she would be graduating this year, too. She was much girlier than Zoe — her nails painted pink and baby blue, her strawberry blonde hair long and deliberately curled; she wore natural-looking makeup with bright red lips. Lucas, Zoe, and Judith launched into small-talk, Judith asking about the family and Lucas answering plainly while Zoe took the piss. Persephone couldn't find words for them, busy thinking about the conversation she'd had with Ronald the weekend prior.

Ever since her admission that she was going to a community college, Ronald had been… Standoffish, colder, quieter, and chose more to glare and grunt than actually use his words. He'd been staying at work more and more. Perhaps he was considering his options. Controlling her now that she was older proved near impossible and she knew it had to be driving him mad. She figured he was going to go off on her that evening after graduation, but she didn't plan on giving him that opportunity. Her plan — really less of a plan and more of a goal — was to hop in Jack and Marguerite's SUV and pray that they pulled off without question. She wished herself luck in that endeavor.

For the time, however, graduation was upon them. The late afternoon air filled the schoolyard as preparations went underway for the ceremony. Seats filled fast and Persephone stayed by Lucas, wading through the sea of graduates. Their classmates chatted eagerly around her as she and Lucas made their way to their seats.

However, one stood out from the rest. Trouble drew near in the form of Oliver, encroaching on them from the crowd. Unwavering, fierce gazes met as he marched up to Lucas, chest puffed.

"Baker."  
"Jones."

They stared each other down. Was Oliver looking for a fight? Here? Or maybe he was hoping Lucas would start one. Persephone put her hand on Lucas's shoulder, waiting for a clash but hoping it wouldn't happen. It felt like they sized one another up for ages, oddly calm for all the hatred and malice between them. Then, Oliver simply walked away to be seated in the crowd.

"The fuck was that about?" Lucas muttered to her.  
"No idea."

Long after the ceremony had ended, Lucas and Persephone laid out atop a crocheted blanket. They'd forgone their gowns and formal attire for more everyday clothes, comfortable and alone along the dirt road leading to the Baker home. Parties surely roared all around, but neither had interest in partying. Persephone was just happy she'd been able to sneak past Ronald and hurry into the SUV with Jack and Marguerite. Now she got to spend the rest of her night with Lucas. Laying side-by-side, they looked up at the blanket of stars.

"Chicago never had stars like this," Persephone mused, trying not to think of how pissed Ronald was going to be.  
"Guess I never really noticed how starry it is 'round here. Didn' have much reason ta care before now." He reached over and laced his fingers with hers.  
Persephone chuckled, thinking back to graduation. "Marguerite was bawling when they announced you were one of the students to graduate with all A's."  
"She's so dramatic."  
"She's just proud."

She turned her head to look at Lucas; at his profile looking up to the night sky, aglow with its beautiful sparkling luster, bringing out his amazing blue eyes.

"Lucas."  
He looked to her, grunting out a soft, "Hm?"  
"Thanks for making graduation not shitty."

Lucas gazed at her, slowly leaning onto his side so he could kiss her lips. He put his hand along the side of her neck and jawline — goddamn was he gorgeous; so fucking handsome. She wanted to look up at him, with the sky illuminating behind him like a masterful painting, for the rest of her fucking life. When he opened his lips to speak, she hung on every word.

"Pers, I love you."

Her heart fluttered. She heard his voice, his alluring accented voice, say that to her again and again in her mind. It was all she could think about in that instant, all she wanted to think about; him, saying_ "Pers, I love you"_, over and over and over. She shot forward onto her elbows, letting their lips meet in a deep kiss. His hand caressed her jaw during their brief but impassioned, fiery lip-lock. When it finished, she placed her forehead against his.

"I love you, too, Lucas. So fucking much."

* * *

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	13. Diane

_**C**_ompared to high school, life in college was no picnic. Their first semester had been filled to the brim with coursework, especially considering Persephone had taken high-level courses to please Ronald. Lucas had done the same for pretty much the same reasons. Jack and his mom still looked at him funny whenever they saw him lugging around ridiculous amounts of coursework. Now that it was mid-winter break, Lucas got to see more of Persephone and her family. The difficult coursework made it so damn worth the days he had to interact with Ronald — just so he could see that the asshole had no more words left. Ronald was either stunned into silence or feeling seething hatred; both worked.

Lucas's day started off normal — maybe a little mundane, even — until Persephone came over. He sat with her in his living room, movie playing in the background as they wound down and kissed on the sofa. It had been so long since he could relax; her in his lap, straddling him, hands all over his back, chest, and in his hair. He couldn't get enough.

Interrupting them, his mom's voice chimed in from the kitchen. "Lucas?"  
Lucas pulled away and called back, "What?"  
"Can you run down to the store for me? I need you to pick up a few things for dinner tonight."  
"Sure, just gimme a list."

He rolled his eyes to Persephone who giggled in response. Adorable.

A few minutes after he got the list from his mom, he and Persephone were in the truck and out the front gates. Persephone kept the ride enjoyable, hand rubbing his thigh as he drove. Thank God his mom only needed a couple of things, so their jaunt into the store would be quick and he wouldn't need to quell his near-permanent arousal for very long.

Since they'd gone to a store his family didn't frequent, he had Persephone up against the wall in the back, kissing her neck and groping her body in front of several other patrons. He didn't give a flying fuck that people could see them. Actually, it kind of exhilarated him, but he stopped himself so they wouldn't get thrown out.

In the truck after shopping, Persephone remarked, "Did you notice Mrs. Tompkin in there? She saw us in the back."  
Lucas laughed. "Been so long since we last seen her. Hell of a reunion."

Music blasted on the radio as Persephone tickled her fingers along his thigh. He couldn't wait to get back home, take her back to his room, and—

He had to stop thinking about it and focus on slowing down, otherwise he'd speed and get a nasty holiday ticket. They'd have the entire evening together, so there was no rush. He looked to her, then noticed her crane her neck to stare at something he'd passed. She said,

"Pull over."  
"Why?"  
"I think I see a dog out there."

A dog? Ah, Pers and her love of animals.

He pulled over onto the shoulder and they stepped out of the truck, following the side of the road until they came upon what Persephone had seen. Indeed, the ball of golden, dirty fluff was a dog, laying in a muddy ditch. The dog listlessly stared at nothing as she drooped her head across her single front leg and a lone puppy with its eyes still closed nuzzled into her for food. Momma dog seemed too skinny to have any milk left, though. Persephone approached the dogs slowly. Momma dog shivered but didn't do anything at all when Persephone knelt beside them.

Lucas's phone rang and he groped around in his pockets for it, engrossed by Persephone tending to the dogs. When he found his phone, he checked the caller I.D., then answered,

"Hey, Momma."  
"Hey, sweetheart, I hope you haven't left the store, I forgot to put somethin' on the list."  
"Sorry, Ma, kinda sidetracked right now."  
"Sidetracked?"  
"We found a dog on the side of the road."  
"Oh dear, a dog? Is she a stray?"  
Lucas looked the dogs over once more. "Seems it. She ain't got a collar on n' she's real skinny, with a baby."  
"Oh, those poor things," his mom lamented. "Where's Persephone?"  
"She's pettin' 'er now."  
Persephone chimed in. "She's a real good girl — aren't you?"  
"Well," his mom said with no hesitation in her voice, "you know I can't just let 'em stay out there. Bring 'em home — we'll keep 'em safe and fed."  
"All right," Lucas agreed. "We'll be home in not too long. Just gonna load the momma dog n' baby up in the truck."

He hung up and went to Persephone's side, then knelt in front of the dogs. Wow, were they dirty, covered in marshy muck and practically colored black. He and Persephone tried to convince the momma to move, Persephone smooching at her and nudging her, but she seemed unable to do more than shake.

"Might have to pick her up," Persephone said.

Lucas did so — Pers probably could've told him to jump off a bridge and he would've — carefully putting his arms under momma dog and lifting her up. She weighed pretty much nothing, despite slumping in his arms as basically dead-weight. The momma dog whimpered as he walked her to the car so Persephone pulled down the collar of her shirt, showing the dog that her baby was safe inside. It quieted her down somewhat.

He loaded her into the passenger seat. Persephone squeezed in beside her and retrieved the baby from her shirt. The small puppy cried and fussed until it was put against the momma dog once again.

* * *

Once home, his mother met them at the stairs to the garage with blankets fresh out of the dryer to wrap the puppy and the momma dog. Persephone asked for a heating pad as well. Momma dog was positioned with her baby, heating pad under the pup to keep it warmer. Lucas watched Persephone coax the puppy to drink.

"Poor thing's really weak," she said. "I'm gonna see if I can convince my dad to help me pay for a visit to the vet."

Momma dog put her head on Lucas's knee and sighed deeply. He pet her, dirt and grime coating his palm and fingers from her muddy fur. His mom was going to hate the filth but obviously wanted to keep the dogs safe and fed, having given him a pack of lunch meat to feed momma dog. He reached over, retrieved a piece, and handed it to her, quickly dropping it into her snatching mouth. Momma dog gobbled it up like she hadn't eaten in her entire life. With how skinny she was, Lucas believed it.

He looked into momma dog's eyes and realized something very strange: he felt bad for her. Before Persephone showed up, he didn't know he could feel that way about others, let alone animals. Maybe Persephone was rubbing off on him — she had a way of making him say and do weird shit, after all. Lucas pet momma dog's head again to comfort her, and he felt Persephone lean against him as they watched over the dogs.

"Are you a good girl, momma dog?" She asked, rubbing momma dog's face, getting her nails in for a good scratch.  
Momma dog leaned into her hand, chin still on Lucas's knee.  
"Is that what we're callin' her? Momma dog?"  
"I don't know what else to call her. Why?" Persephone snuggled closer to him, smiling cutely. "Did you want to name her?"

No idea. But he could surely think of a better name than 'momma dog'. So he tried. He'd never been fond of typical dog names — Spot, Fluffy — nor the more common names like Bella, Daisy, Maggie… But he did like the idea of a more human name, something believable. Not common but not ridiculous, either. Daisy had a nice ring to it. A name beginning with a D?

"Diane," he said.  
"Diane?"  
"Yep. It's a good name." He rubbed the top of Diane's head, name cemented in his mind.  
"All right," Persephone said with a soft laugh. "Diane it is. Once we find out the puppy's sex, we can name him, too. Or her."

* * *

A couple weeks later, after classes had started up again, Lucas had taken a break from studying in his old room. He fondly regarded the small, still blind puppy as it fell asleep against his leg, Diane cuddling up behind it. Persephone was right — the puppy was so fragile and small, especially compared to the much larger Diane. And it was cute. He hoped the puppy was a boy. The name Hunter already settled in his mind, and what a masculine name for a girl that would be. Diane slept soundly, a tired mother who'd lost her right front leg, and probably her other babies. It was still strange how much he gave a shit about her. He pet her head but she didn't wake. Either she was too comfortable or in a deep sleep. Not even the violin screeching from the classic _Psycho_ scene — Persephone's unique notification — coming from his phone woke her. He checked the text message.

_'How are all my babies doing?'_  
Pers was too fucking adorable. _'The dogs are asleep. Diane ate all her dinner'_  
_'That's great, but did you eat dinner?'_  
_'Yes, mom'_  
_'I just know how you get. Bout to drive my brand spanking new car up to see you tomorrow'_  
_'Finally I won't have to chauffeur you'_  
_'Fuck you'_  
He'd love to. _'We'll have plenty of time for that tomorrow'_

Hunter then stirred, squeaking and chirping. Diane shot up, licking both him and Hunter. He set them up the same way Persephone had, laying the puppy on a blanketed heating pad so he could nurse. It took a minute to convince Hunter to latch on — how did Pers make it look so damn easy? — but eventually the pup did. Keeping up with the dogs had Lucas exhausted, but he still needed to study (and actually eat dinner so Persephone wouldn't get mad at him) before he could finally go to bed.

Unfortunately for Lucas, Diane and Hunter both came to be far needier over the weeks. They both needed to eat every few hours — and now Hunter would cry and scream until Diane nuzzled him onto her to nurse. By that point, Lucas was up and giving Diane extra food. His childhood bed was far too small for him to sleep comfortably, with 6 feet of body and only about 5 feet of bed, so the little sleep he did get was tumultuous at best. His aching body plodded through his days and studies were thrown on top of everything else, leaving him worn out.

Through all of that, though, he liked the dogs more and more each day. Diane really wanted to cuddle, so he bathed her in the family tub while Hunter napped with his mother in the living room. Unhappy with having water dumped across her, Diane showed her distaste by constantly shaking off and splashing the sudsy water all over him and the bathroom. It'd been difficult to clean her stomach but he managed. Bony Diane seemed thankful to be allowed on the couch.

Everyone in the house adored little Hunter. He'd even seen his old man doting over the puppy. Hunter was still blind, bright blue eyes squinting aimlessly, but he seemed able to smell him and Diane. The puppy would cry and yell when he left the room and he'd been allowed to eat dinners in the living room to keep Hunter quiet.

There was something about the dogs, something about the way he acted around them that seemed to impress Persephone. He certainly didn't mind the extra attention (and sex, thank God for that) — hell, he'd have gotten a dog sooner if he knew she would be all over him.

* * *

Two-month-old Hunter's fluffy paws kicked up at Lucas then landed softly on his mattress. He rubbed the pup's sides, picked him up, and flipped him onto his back, doting over him and blowing raspberries on his belly. Hunter nipped his ears and head, growling playfully. He laughed and backed up to rub where he'd been nipped. Hunter shot up, jumping at him again, nearly tumbling off the bed. Luckily, he seemed to be gaining what the old man called 'dad reflexes' and caught the pup's front legs. What a save.

"You two are so damn cute," said Persephone beside him.  
"Who knew I'd actually like dogs." He gently smacked the bed to get Hunter to jump up and down.  
Diane came in shortly after, leaping onto the bed. Hunter tried to nurse.  
"Got his food ready downstairs." Persephone smiled and cradling the pup in one arm as though Hunter was a baby.

Puppy feeding time had to be done in the laundry room, as Hunter liked to wear his wet food while he devoured it. By the time he finished putting his paws in the bowl, it was mostly empty and globs of food clung to the floor. Lucas took to cleaning Hunter and Persephone cleaned the floor, while Diane cleaned what was left in the bowl. A warm rag was all he needed to get the food off the puppy. He sat on the floor with Hunter, but Hunter never wanted things to be that simple, biting and squeaking at the rag as it came close. Diane was on them quickly, nosing her baby.

Even in his safe home, Diane remained very protective. Hunter was still weak and sick. He and his probably deceased litter mates hadn't gotten enough milk from Diane because she'd been starving, leaving Hunter really tiny. They had to be careful how much they fed him — too much, and he'd throw it all up, but too little, and he wouldn't grow or get the nutrients he needed to prevent him from getting sick. At least, that's how Persephone explained it after they'd seen a vet. He'd never been to a vet's office before and the whole experience had been a blur of medical jargon. Even looking back on it, he didn't understand much of what had been said; maybe it was all still gobbledygook due to his exhaustion.

"Looks like you haven't slept in days," Persephone commented, rinsing the dirty rags and bowl in the utility sink.  
Damn, could she read his fucking mind or something? "Feels like I haven't. Hunter is always waking me up for food."  
"At least he's got an appetite."  
"Eats like a hog every two, three hours." Lucas let the now clean puppy roam, rubbing his face on his sleeve in a fruitless attempt to stay awake.  
Persephone leaned against his back, arms draped around his chest. She said, "You're so cute, Lucas. So sweet the way you dote over Hunter and Diane. But you need to sleep."  
"I know."  
"Why don't we go take a nap? They'll be falling asleep soon, so let's join them."

He couldn't agree more. Her suggestion was well-warranted — he could hardly pay attention as he trudged up the stairs and to his room with her. Persephone let Hunter down on the floor with Diane as he closed the door behind them. With full tummies, the dogs yawned and cuddled on Diane's toy-covered bed. He and Persephone cuddled, too, though the small bed cramped them together.

Napping turned into Lucas groping her breasts and ass, but that was to be expected. He could barely keep his hands off her and sleep deprivation wouldn't stop him from that. But he drifted off to sleep after their peaceful, calm lovemaking and exchanging of "I love you"s.

* * *

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	14. Dealing with Hardships, Together

_**K**_eeping up with her studies got tougher every week. More coursework piled onto her this semester than ever before and she diligently kept up with every last bit of it. In kind, conversations with Lucas were sparser. She tried to call him every day, wanting to hear his voice and laugh with him, but then her calls came every other day, right before bed. Often, she would fall asleep midway through their call and wind up having to apologize the next day via text. Her weekends were cut into by Saturday classes, but she luckily had Sundays free and went to the Bakers every chance she got.

Whenever she came over, she got to see her babies. Hunter and Diane seemed to be doing great. The young puppy would greet her exuberantly, jumping up at her knees and waggling his little tail so fast that it would sting whenever he hit her with it. But she loved it; his strength, his excitement, and his cute little puppy face. He was coming up on three months and looking fairly normal — still small, but not worryingly so.

Lucas often asked, "We're gonna take 'im down t' the river fer spring break, right?", or similar urgings, and Persephone had to agree. To make Hunter stronger and give him an adventure after his rough start in life, they had big plans for the dogs and each other. She couldn't wait to take her babies to New Orleans, let them enjoy the sights and smells of all sorts of people and other dogs. Their vacation was going to be amazing, they would both see to that. After all, she and Lucas deserved a good break and some quality time together.

* * *

She woke up to her alarm one morning, instantly aware that her finals were coming up, and fast. What day was it? Wednesday? Thursday? Either way, she had class in a couple of hours. Her hand smacked the nightstand, searching for her charging phone. She turned her alarm off and checked the phone; 100% battery and Lucas had texted her, like always. She eagerly read the message, expecting a _'good morning, beautiful'_ or something similar. But the two words she read instead dropped an acidic pit in her stomach.

_'come over' _

It made her feel sick. Persephone didn't eat breakfast. The moment she'd finished dressing and brushing her teeth, she took the car and drove to his house. During the whole drive, she pondered the meaning of his text. It was sudden, strange, and, considering the finals were a week away, inappropriate. Did he want to skip school for some reason? No, it couldn't be something so innocent. When she checked the text at a red light (no replies to her simple _'be right there'_), she felt an urgency in his two, simple words. If it was as innocuous as skipping school, he would've elaborated. A pressure tore at her heart as she pulled up to the estate — maybe she was paranoid, but a darkness surrounded it. It was as bright as ever for the Louisiana springtime, yet a voice inside her head told her that she wouldn't find anything pleasant in his home.

The gates were locked, as always. She parked just out front and climbed over, rather than call and wait for someone to come out. The more she thought about the text, the more she couldn't wait. After hurrying up the porch, she tried the doorknob first thing; locked, as normal. Persephone's fist frantically hammered the door. Waiting for the door to open, she paced, her foot tapping against the porch each time she stopped to breathe easier; waiting and waiting and _waiting_ — it was killing her.

Then, the door slowly creaked open, like the weight of the world rested upon its hinges. Marguerite's frowning, darkened face greeted her.

"Lucas is out back," she said in a chilling near-whisper.

Persephone squeezed past as quickly (and politely) as she could, jogged through the open main hall, and out the back door. She noticed Lucas off to the side, slumped down, face in his hands. She collapsed to her knees beside him, putting her hand on his back, her mind swirling with questions that her shocked tongue couldn't articulate.

He looked at her, red eyes and puffy lids stunning her already disoriented brain. A cardboard box rested beside him, along with a shivering Diane. She didn't get to ask him what had happened before he spoke, his voice raspy and coated with phlegm.

"Hunter…"

No other words came out of his trembling lips. Her mind blanked and she swallowed against her instantly dry throat. A trembling hand reached over and lifted the lid of the box.

An unmoving Hunter lay inside.

The half-dug grave for the pup had been abandoned in favor of comforting Diane. Lucas pet her head and held her paw, but nothing stopped her shaking.

"She was cryin' this mornin'," Lucas said somberly, words breaking Persephone's heart. "Like… Screamin' cryin'. Scared the shit outta me, so I followed her, n'…" He inhaled a quivering breath. "Hunter was already dead."  
Persephone put her arms around him, willing herself not to cry. "I'm so sorry, Lucas."

* * *

A little while later, in hopes of easing everyone's grief and preoccupying her mind, Persephone decorated the plain cardboard box with leftover wrapping paper from Christmas, making it similar to a little gift which she then bundled tightly in plastic wrap to keep the bugs away. The poor pup. She continuously had to swallow her tears and stay strong for Lucas, who'd stopped digging the grave several times to excuse himself to the bathroom and be alone.

He and Jack eventually finished the small grave for Hunter that evening. The entire family surrounded the grave as Jack and Lucas buried him. Zoe and Marguerite held one another, sobbing. Persephone knelt beside Diane, keeping her away from Hunter's resting place as she'd repeatedly tried to dig at the dirt covering her final, lost baby.

Once the grave had been filled in completely, the family went to the kitchen to be together, leaving Lucas, Persephone, and Diane outside.

"C'mon, Diane," Persephone urged her gently, "we gotta go inside, okay?"

Diane refused to move, staring at Hunter's tomb, whimpering, trembling. Lucas tugged on Diane's pink bandana but still she ignored him. He had to pick Diane up and carry the wailing dog inside.

* * *

Diane shook in the corner, having refused all food and water. The family sat around the kitchen table. No one spoke. They all stared at their cups of coffee or tea, or the empty space in front of her, in Persephone's case. After a few minutes, Lucas stood.

"'Scuse me."

He left, footsteps thudding above them toward his old room. All was quiet for a while after that, too, excepting Zoe's soft sobbing.

Persephone let Lucas be alone. She'd check on him in a little while — until then, he needed time to sort out his emotions. Sooner or later, she would require much the same.

"I've never seen him so upset," Marguerite breathed. Her hands grasped her full mug of now-cold coffee.  
"He really loved that dog," said Jack.  
Zoe held onto her quivering voice as she spoke. "We all did."

Diane blubbered in the corner, crying and whining. Zoe rushed to her side and tried to comfort the distraught dog, gently shushing and petting her. Poor girl had lost all of her puppies now. She wondered if Diane was thinking about her dead newborns, too. Diane had wanted to keep Hunter safe, always the first by his side if he ever needed her. Yet he'd perished as well.

After a deep, steadying breath as Diane calmed down, Persephone pardoned herself from the table to check on Lucas. She went upstairs toward his old room, where Hunter's toys and bedding were. The door had been left cracked open and Persephone peered inside. Lucas sat on his bed, holding a ragged teddy bear that Hunter loved to sleep with. It was dirty, torn up, and probably soggy from drool; a treasure trove of memories.

She knocked on his door. He didn't say anything, quickly wiping his face on his sleeves instead.

She came in and fully shut the door behind her. "You okay?"  
"No."

She sat beside him on the bed and laid her hand on his shoulder. The moment she touched him, he covered his face with his hands and the bear, then hunched down as he sobbed. His body quivered and she comforted him as best as she could — rubbing his shoulders, kissing them through his hoodie, caressing his back — but nothing stopped his flow of tears.

Persephone couldn't stand to see him this way. His heart had been shattered, a heart that she'd helped him rebuild. In a way, she felt guilty. If it hadn't been for her spotting Hunter and Diane, Lucas wouldn't be in this situation, distraught over a puppy he'd tried so hard to keep safe. If it hadn't been for her in general, Lucas would still be bitter and angry and incapable of love. But he wasn't that same teenager anymore.

Lucas lifted his head from the bear and looked to Persephone with watery eyes.

"I thought he was strong enough. I really did. He was so playful just yesterday. We were gonna teach 'im to swim durin' spring break, take 'im to New Orleans…"  
"I know," she replied, staying calm for him. "I thought he was going to make it, too."

It took all the strength she could muster to hold onto her tears as he pulled her into his arms.

* * *

For a few days after, a dispirited Lucas could only respond to her texts with single words. Whenever he spotted her in the halls at college, he would throw his arms around her and hold her until they were late for class.

However, the sting lessened as the days turned to weeks.

By the time late May rolled around — and with it, spring break — he talked excitedly about taking Diane to New Orleans.

The drive there started off slow, with not much but the radio and Persephone singing, but once they got off 90 and turned into the city, things picked up on the streets. They were filled with people and traffic slowed to a near halt. Their slow pace called Persephone's gaze to all of the shops; restaurants mixed with voodoo marts mixed with jazz bars. Most of the stores were two-stories with railed balconies, decorated with garlands or lights. Some things were ornate, some things were downtrodden, and the rest was an in-between mixture. She'd never seen New Orleans before and it took her breath away.

Despite that Louis Armstrong Park was only a few miles off the exit ramp, it took nearly 45 minutes to get there, where their reserved parking space waited. When they parked and Lucas opened the back door, Diane leapt out, sniffing the air and nearly tripping over the concrete bumper before the sidewalk. Luckily, Lucas had a good hold on her leash and the harness firmly attached around her chest which prevented her from face-planting.

They'd picked a gorgeous day. Warm but with a nice (albeit swampy smelling) breeze. Only a few clouds flecked above them, Persephone noticed as she took a look at the blue sky. She retrieved their backpack and slung it across her shoulders; their bottled water and sandwiches close.

The park was just as packed as everywhere else and a few people eagerly asked to pet Diane as they passed. Persephone couldn't blame them — Diane was cute as hell with her three legs and golden fluff. Diane didn't mind the extra attention and greeted everyone with an affable wag and curious sniff.

Once she left the park, Persephone held Lucas's hand and tugged him along the road.

"C'mon, c'mon!" She effused, "I can't wait anymore!"  
But an equally enthusiastic Diane pulled Lucas the exact opposite way.

After getting Diane's attention, they got back on track, still holding hands as Diane trotted beside toward their first destination: The House of Voodoo. They'd planned to go there as soon as she found out the establishment allowed dogs. Lucas stated his curiosity to know exactly what about occult stuff made Persephone 'so obsessed'. She couldn't describe the allure to him — the death, the dark, the creep-factor — but he would soon find out, she was sure.

The House of Voodoo was one of those in-between types of stores, with once pristine walls covered with ivy. Its sign had been written in purposefully crude black marker hung somewhat tilted, and its windows were filled with voodoo dolls, glass bottles of unknown liquids, skeleton decals, and skulls. Diane was the first to waltz into its wide-open, recessed entrance. Both Diane and Persephone breathed deep the fruity aura of ambrosial incense.

Tribal masks in dark colors, bottles of 'potions', and all sorts of creepy, occult-like items lined the shelves and walls. Lucas simply followed Diane around as she led him through the store, leaving Persephone to explore what she wanted. She heard Diane getting stopped by excited patrons for pettings or to fawn over her three-legged gait, but Persephone was too preoccupied with quelling the urge to shove everything into her shopping basket.

After half an hour in the shop, Persephone had an authentic shrunken head, a golden 'potion of luck' (made with turmeric to dye it the brilliant yellow, which gave Persephone a little chuckle), two cloth voodoo dolls, a few creepy knickknacks like a fake skull and a rubber vampire bat, as well as a black book of occult symbols inside of her basket. When the pep in her step had her almost skipping up to the checkout counter, Lucas was right behind her and insisting on paying for it all. She half-heartedly protested at first, but she let him buy everything in her basket, delighting in the prideful look in his eyes.

"The voodoo dolls are really cool, actually," he said as they left the shop. "Creepy as hell."  
"Right? I dunno where I'm gonna put them, but they're awesome."  
"Yer takin' me to the dark side, Pers."  
"And Diane is next."

The Museum of Death was their second destination, which Persephone gushed about the whole way there. They'd need to go one at a time due to Diane not being allowed inside, so Lucas let Persephone go first.

About an hour later, beaming uncontrollably but not wanting to spoil the Museum for Lucas, Persephone took over Diane's babysitting so he could enjoy it. She waited, holding the backpack and giving Diane water from a bowl they'd taken for her.

"You wouldn't believe it, Diane," Persephone gushed, petting her. "There were shrunken heads and skeletons and — well, dead stuff, basically! Lucas is gonna love it."  
Diane whimpered, jowl dripping with water as she looked back to the entrance.  
"It's okay, baby, Daddy's gonna come back soon. Promise."

When Lucas returned — after getting practically mauled by a jumping, ecstatic Diane — he also effervesced about the contents; the mummified heads, the mural to serial killers, and all the wonderful morbidities held within its walls. With excitement and a bounce in her stride, she and Lucas chattered about the Museum as they continued trekking through the streets of New Orleans, heading toward Washington Avenue to get to City Park.

Street bands scattered all down Washington Ave. Every corner had a free-roaming jazz-style band, with hats or jars or boxes for tips from passers-by. Persephone enjoyed the enthusiastic indie bands, music she'd never hear on the radio. New Orleans truly was something else, unique and fascinating and, perhaps because she spent her time with her two favorite people in the world, amazingly fun. Her delight was cut short by Diane yanking Lucas down the street, prompting Persephone to chase after them.

"Woah, woah, Diane, what's the rush?" Lucas asked, pulling on the leash and trying to regain control.

But she didn't stop until she reached the end of the street, where she instantly planted her feet and watched the band on the corner. Her head cocked from side to side, listening to the prominent mixture of clarinet and trumpet from two of the band members.

"Oh, I see," Persephone commented. "This must be her favorite band."

Diane's tail wagged when the clarinet player looked toward her, smiling against his mouthpiece.

"Looks like it," said Lucas, reaching in his pocket. "I'll tip 'em fer 'er."

He dropped a couple of bucks into their tip jar and Diane jumped up and down, barking as if in approval. Persephone watched her for a while as Diane continued her exuberant display for the music, making the band play more ardently for their excited audience. All around them, people walked and drank, a few danced as they passed and some even stopped to do so. Persephone couldn't imagine dancing. She never did and didn't know how.

As if Lucas could read her mind, he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward him.

"What're you doing?" She asked.  
"Joinin' Diane in the fun."

He brought her in and rested his opposite hand on her waist, twirling her around him. Her unpracticed feet stumbled a bit and his inexperienced lead didn't provide much to lean back on, but their completely amateur dance made her smile and laugh. Diane jumped up onto them, breaking up their dance with her abandoned leash clamped in her jaws.

"Look who's jealous," Persephone joked.  
"All right, all right, calm down," Lucas said to Diane, gently pushing her off him.

Before taking the leash once more, Lucas moved Persephone's hand toward his lips and tenderly kissed her knuckles. She giggled — he could be so adorable, and so dorky.

She continued down Washington with him and Diane, toward their next and final stop. The day's busy and noisy streets livened as the afternoon set upon New Orleans — more people were turning out of clubs and bars, drunk as can be. Persephone stuck close to Lucas to avoid getting puked on by the staggering drunkards. A few people came up to them, particularly tourists, to ask to pet Diane who adored the extra attention.

Down at City Park, Persephone took in the completely different environment, blanketed in trees and lush grass. Wild animals ran all around, up tree trunks and across cobblestone pathways; squirrels and chipmunks, mallards and pigeons. This, of course, made Diane go nuts as they walked toward the lake, chasing back-and-forth any animal that flew above or ran below. Another dog, off-leash and far better behaved, already swam in the water, chasing a ball. When the dog — which Persephone accurately identified as a Labrador mix, according to his human — got out of the water and shook off, Diane hid between Lucas's legs.

When Diane slowly came out, she sniffed at the other dog who patiently waited, wagging his otter-like tail. They met nose-to-nose and Diane intently smelled him, probably getting the scent of the lake water dripping from his coat. The other dog, called Buck, tried to initiate play by bowing and jumping, which Diane normally would've loved but the odor of the lake seemed to put her off and she ran away from him.

Buck returned to his dad's side and chased his ball out into the waters as Diane watched with a mixture of interest and what Persephone surmised as doggie disgust.

"Go on, girl," Persephone urged. "Wanna go swimmin'?"  
"She hates it," said Lucas.  
"But you're a retriever, Diane."  
Diane didn't move, only watched.  
"I don' think she's havin' it."

Eventually, Diane sniffed Buck's water trail while he dove back into the lake. Persephone didn't think she'd stick around for very long, but to her and Lucas's shock, she dropped down into the puddle and rolled in the muddied ground. The rolling kicked up a bunch of mud and she tossed it around when she shook off, but it seemed to inspire her to try the lake.

She waded out and soon went for an off-leash swim alongside her newfound friend.

"Figured she'd come around," said Persephone.  
"She looks like a drowned rat," replied Lucas, tossing the ball for her once again.  
"Yeah, but look how happy she is."

Diane's face was pulled back in a doofy dog grin and tail held proud whenever she exited the water with the ball in her mouth. She would trot over to Lucas, drop the ball in his hand, and jump around to try and entice him to throw it again.

Seeing Diane this way made Persephone think back to Hunter. It would've been amazing to take him to the lake, too, have him romp and play alongside his terrific mother. But she couldn't dwell on Hunter's death and upset herself, not when Diane's worries seemed to have melted away. And Lucas's worries had, too. Persephone saw the glow in his eyes every time Diane rushed up to him and begged for the ball to be thrown. She wiped a stray tear away, returning her mind to the present so she could enjoy the rest of her evening.

As the sun started to set, she and Lucas had to reel in Diane's playtime. She protested going home by playing tug-of-war with her leash when Lucas tried to hook her back in, and then ran off back into the water, lead in her mouth, when Persephone retrieved a towel. She finally got caught when she went to say goodbye to Buck, who also left the park for the day.

By the time Persephone and Lucas headed back to the car, the sun had set and nightlife of New Orleans came out in spades. Fluorescent lights illuminated the streets, clubs grew louder with their jazz and swing music, and somehow everyone seemed livelier than they had been during the morning and afternoon. She and Lucas held their moistened hands during their leisurely jaunt.

"It's gonna be so nice to get back home," she said.  
"We'll finish this date up real nice," he replied, kissing the side of her head.  
"It's been perfect, Lucas. I'm sure Diane feels the same way."  
He removed his hand from hers to put his arm around her waist instead. "Gotta keep both a' my girls happy."  
Persephone leaned her head against his shoulder, adoring the new memories they'd made and the fuzzy feeling residing in her heart. "You're doing a great job of that. Love you, Lucas."  
"Love you, Pers."

Diane then turned and jumped onto them, whimpering dramatically.

Lucas pet Diane's head. "Love you, too, Diane."  
Persephone scratched the side of Diane's neck. "That's right, girl. We love you, too."

* * *

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	15. How Things Went Wrong

_**L**_ucas weighed Hunter one morning as the puppy wriggled and played on the scale. 20 lbs.; he'd been that weight for almost two weeks now — even upping the food hadn't made Hunter any bigger. Hunter playfully nipped at his fingers with those sharp puppy teeth, which is something he loved to do. Lucas had cuts and bruises all over his fingers but Hunter was so damn cute when he wanted to play, so he normally let him go crazy. Still, Lucas's aching hands needed a good break, so he took Hunter outside, letting the puppy down on the porch to run around the backyard. Hunter rushed past Diane, yipping and squeaking with his tiny voice.

His phone went off. Lucas looked down, replying to Persephone who'd been venting about her dad again. Not that he could blame her — Ronald was a total jack-off.

When he looked back up, he saw Diane laying beside the trailer, then turned his gaze to the rest of yard to see what Hunter was doing. His eyes scanned left to right but he didn't find the puppy anywhere. Probably went under the trailer. Lucas went down the steps and leaned over to peer underneath the trailer from afar. Weird, nothing under there. As he looked farther, thinking Hunter was perhaps behind the trailer instead, he noticed that the gate to the greenhouse was open.

"Oh shit."

He then called Hunter to try and get him to come over. Nothing. He hadn't the time to panic, deciding instead to whistle loudly. That got Diane to heel, but not Hunter. Of course. He was a horrible listener, which is why they've been needing to keep the gate closed. Lucas was going to be pissed if he found that dog belly-deep in the swampy waters.

That's what he came face-to-face to when he rounded the corner of the gate and looked near the door of the greenhouse. Just before the door, Hunter jumped around the swamp, splashing stagnant water all over the bog.

"Hunter, get the hell outta there," Lucas demanded, grabbing the puppy.

Hunter squirmed about, splashing mud all over Lucas's sleeves and down his pants. He brought the dog up to his chest, holding him with his belly facing out so he couldn't kick. Hunter licked the muck off of himself — great, now he'd need a bath before he made himself sick.

Lucas got to work, taking Hunter to the upstairs bathroom of the main house. He had to hold Hunter down on the side of the tub while he tried to achieve the right temperature, otherwise the pup would douse mud all over the bathroom, too. It was all a big game to the puppy, one that he must've been determined to win while making as much noise about it as he could. Diane, meanwhile, had figured out how to open doors and had been using her ability every chance she got, so she left the bathroom door wide open as she checked on her baby.

When the water was warm, he filled the tub up a few inches and cleaned the puppy; draining out the muddy water and having to start over a few times. He worked through his tiring arms and pruning fingers.

Eventually, after being splashed for the tenth time, he finished. As the last of the bathwater drained, Lucas searched for the towel. Only… He didn't bring one in the first place.

"Fuck," he muttered.

Something soft hit him in the back of the head and draped over his eyes. He tugged it off, now holding a towel in his hands.

"Forgettin' somethin'?" Zoe asked from the doorway.  
"Yeah, thanks."  
"Decided that Hunter needed a bath, huh?"  
He rolled his eyes as he toweled Hunter off. "No. Hunter decided that on his own after he ran out the gate n' played in the bayou. Speakin' of, who in the hell left the gate open?"  
"Shoot, sorry. Judith an' I went out there an' I guess we forgot to close up." Zoe tittered.  
Lucas mocked her laugh. "Y'all just needed a romantic look at the swamp, did ya?"  
"Don't knock it 'til you an' Pers try it."

When he was finished with Hunter, Lucas let the wriggling, irritated puppy go free, hearing his elephant stampede-like footsteps as he rushed past Zoe and ran downstairs, making a mad dash through the house. Zoe giggled and headed downstairs with Lucas behind. He retrieved his phone from his pocket on the way to the laundry room, reading the texts he'd gotten.

_'Sorry,'_ Pers had texted about half an hour before (when the whole mess had started), _'didn't mean to just rant like that.'_  
Then ten minutes ago, she texted him again. _'You still there? Or did I scare you off?'_  
He chuckled gently. Every time Pers said something so cute and funny, it always made him feel better. This time was no different and he recounted the situation with a little humor in hindsight. _'Zoe left the back gate open so Hunter got into the bayou. Was just giving him a bath, now he's running around like a crazy dog.'_

He threw his dirty jacket into the washing machine. Pants were still filthy, but he needed to go all the way to his room for new ones and fuck that.

* * *

Two days later in Lucas's old room, he and Hunter played tug-of-war with his flailing-arm stuffed monkey. Hunter stopped play for just a moment to sneeze, then jumped right back into it. How embarrassing would it have been had Persephone heard Lucas's genuine, gushing little "awww" in response? Hunter was too fucking cute. The tiny puppy went to bed after play time, cuddling up to Diane as they slept, giving Lucas the time he needed to focus on college work.

* * *

His sleep was slowly being interrupted by some weird noise. What the hell day was it? Was that his alarm already? Couldn't have been later than 5 AM; it was still dark outside, so what was going on? Once his mind woke up somewhat, he realized the noise was Diane's frantic crying and whimpering. His eyes shot open and he bolted upright, heart jumping when Diane screamed and whined louder. She ran out of the room, and as Lucas tossed the blankets off himself to follow her, he heard her crying downstairs. He didn't have time to think as he skipped every other step and slid around the corner on his socks. Diane's cries came from the living room and Lucas ran to her side, skidding to a stop across the hardwood.

Around the corner of the couch lay Hunter, sprawled out on the floor. His heart sunk immediately.

"Hunter?"

He dropped to his knees beside the puppy and grabbed Hunter by the chest, lifting his limp, rag doll-like body, heart racing when he felt no movement coming from inside Hunter's tiny, slumped body. Hunter's name came out of Lucas's mouth several more times as he rubbed the dog's back hard, then rubbed his chest, trying to facilitate any response, restart Hunter's breathing — do _something_. He laid Hunter across the couch, ear against the puppy's chest. There was no heartbeat, no struggle to breathe. Just nothing.

"Hunter, wake up," he said desperately, voice weak.

Rubbing the puppy's chest turned to gentle nudges, then to vigorous shakes, growing rougher and more dire with each moment that passed. Diane had gone quiet.

"What's goin' on?" asked Jack, voice gruff from sleep.  
"Ma, Dad, it's Hunter, he's—" Lucas didn't want to say it. If he said it, it would become true, and he didn't want it to be. It was all a bad dream, it had to be, Hunter couldn't be— "Dead." They didn't feel like his words, didn't sound like his voice, especially not his more urgent, forlorn, "Oh my God, he's dead."

It wasn't real; not the situation and not the phone call Jack made to the vet, asking for instructions. Only the tech was available, who suggested taking him to the emergency vet. But the emergency vet was an hour away. An hour that Hunter didn't have. He was dead. And none of the chest compressions or checks for airway obstructions helped. 6 AM, and Hunter was completely gone.

Lucas kept the corpse with him for a while, wrapped in Hunter's favorite blanket. He'd texted Persephone _'come over'_, but she was still asleep and would be for another few hours. He used that time to sit alone in the living room, cradling Hunter's body and trying to make sense of everything. When Jack and Marguerite had gone to give him space, he'd let it all out into Hunter's blanketed body.

Now his aching, pounding mind couldn't believe what had happened. Looking down at Hunter's bulging, dead eyes felt unreal. He had to cover the puppy's head with the blanket — he couldn't look into those eyes; not as a failure who hadn't saved Hunter's life, hadn't been there in the pup's final moments. Hunter died without him, possibly in pain, possibly without frantic Diane at his side until much later. There was too much uncertainty, too much regret, and perhaps that's why his brain refused to believe it.

Lucas didn't wish to live in a reality that made him the guilty party, but so he did. He could've been there for Hunter, should've noticed something was wrong the night before when he'd had a sneezing fit, or before he went to bed when Hunter was cold. All he did was put a blanket over the pup and thought nothing more of it. He was a damn idiot for not doing anything, for not calling the vet, for not even telling Persephone who surely would've warned him.

He eventually found a box big enough to put Hunter inside, laying him down atop his small, puppy-sized bed and fitting the lid over it. Jack had been digging a grave in the late morning for the puppy, under the big tree beside Zoe's trailer. To distract himself and tell himself he wasn't completely useless, Lucas grabbed a shovel and helped dig the three-foot deep hole.

* * *

When Persephone had come over hours later, he couldn't look directly at her. He knew he was a mess of guilt-filled, tear-stained, reddened eyes — he didn't want her to see that, but he wanted her beside him. She'd made-up Hunter's box in Christmas wrapping and ribbon, dressing him up like a small present then binding it up in multiple layers of plastic wrap to keep bugs and animals out. The funeral-esque service that was held, burying the puppy, then traversing listlessly through the house to sit in the dining room didn't feel real.

He barely comprehended how he'd gotten to his old room but once he realized he was there, he let himself cry again. Even alone where no one could judge him, he felt judged by himself. He let Hunter die and now he blubbered like a weakling over his own incompetence. He deserved to be wracked with guilt.

* * *

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	16. The More Things Change

_**R**_ight before the following holiday break, Lucas listened to Persephone and Ronald arguing over the phone. Persephone had strayed further from her parents until she was practically living with him on the weekends. He loved it, but Ronald obviously had a different opinion. They'd gotten into plenty of arguments about it and this weekend was no different. From his bedroom, Lucas heard her in the kitchenette.

"I've proved I'm more than capable of handling time with Lucas _and_ my grades," she snapped. "This isn't even about my grades anymore, this is about you being controlling and I'm sick of it!"  
He heard Ronald's voice barely chirping in the background as he said something back.  
"Yeah, well don't expect me to live under your roof for much longer, Dad. And if you haven't noticed, I've grown up — I'm not some kid you can just meld to your own expectations anymore."  
More Ronald chirping; his voice was raised now but still incomprehensible.  
"You can't ground me if I don't come home."

Ronald's chirping was cut short and Persephone returned to the bedroom with her phone in her pocket.

"Went well, did it?" Lucas asked.  
"Yep, turned my phone off and everything." She played irritably with his Ouija board necklace, then rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you still up for that shower?"  
"Obviously."

The shower presented a perfect opportunity for a relaxing chat about Christmas together with his family. She gushed, talking excitedly about cooking and present shopping and helping decorate the home.

"Ooh, and we should decorate Hunter's grave with Christmas stuff."

Goddamn was she cute.

* * *

One mid-March afternoon on Sunday, Lucas still hadn't heard anything from Persephone. Strange, she normally at least texted him before the morning was over and it was past noon without a word. Plus, they always spent Sundays together. She'd been supposed to come over and hadn't arrived. His text had been left hanging. He looked at his phone, reading what he'd written, _'morning, gorgeous'_, then about an hour later he texted her a, _'still coming over?'_. A call or two didn't go through afterward, like she'd ignored them.

Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary before and he found himself pacing his room, fingers tapping impatiently on his phone case. Lunch would be ending soon and he couldn't understand why she'd not contacted him. His thumbs hovered over the screen, letters a jumbled mess at the bottom that he tried to form into words. He eventually deciphered a,

_'Pers, you ok?'_

Then he waited, staring as his clammy palms tried to keep a grip on his phone. Did something happen to her? Was she sick?

He saw that she was typing — a fast reply that took him aback given her prior silence. Words popped up onto the screen and he had to read them twice to make sure he hadn't misread. Her text sent a chill down his spine, causing his cheeks to go cold.

_'we're moving'_

* * *

He didn't remember the drive there. All he remembered before finding himself across the street from her house was opening the garage, car keys in hand. The rest was a blur of shaking hands and a racing mind. He didn't want to believe that she'd actually sent him that text, but Persephone'd been waiting for him, arms crossed tight. When he pulled up, she rushed across the street to greet him at his truck. He had to catch her as she jumped into his arms. Her eyes were red, puffy, but he barely got to see them before she buried her face in his chest, holding his hoodie in clenched fists.

Her reaction confirmed to him that her text hadn't been some crazy hallucination. She'd really be moving away.

It took a while for her to let him go and climb around to the passenger side. He returned to his seat as well. She shut the radio off, making him aware that it had been on in the first place.

She said, "Let's go."  
"Where to?"  
"Don't care. Anywhere away from here."  
"Want me to take you home?"

She looked at him with tears in her eyes. It was the first time he'd ever seen her cry. She was normally so strong. Seeing her lose control shattered his heart. Persephone's voice cracked as she spoke.

"Yes."

The whole ride was spent in silence, with the occasional sniffle or hiccuping cry from Persephone. He kept his hand on her thigh comfortingly, trying to focus on getting back home where they could talk. Focus was not easily kept and he often found himself spacing out, driving on autopilot as his mind raced with thoughts of losing Persephone forever. After everything they'd been through together, after all the love he felt for her and she felt for him, she was leaving. He didn't know if he could handle it.

When they got to the garage and stepped out of the truck, she attached herself to him, arms held tight around his shoulders.

The memory of how they got to his bedroom was a blur of looming loneliness and despair. Diane met them on the way and cuddled in Lucas's bed with them, pushed up against him with her head across his waist, as if she knew something was wrong.

Persephone had been quiet, her face in his chest. He wanted to hear her voice but didn't want to force her to speak, so he was quiet, too. Where was she moving? Would she break up with him? That thought was unbearable. A sharp pain ran through his chest as his mind repeated that he would never see her again. He couldn't let that happen — he wouldn't. If there was anything he could do to keep them together, he would do it without hesitation. But was it selfish to think that way? Selfish to think only of how he'd feel if they couldn't be together? Persephone was the one being uprooted, taken to a place she'd never been against her will. But he needed her; needed her touch, her voice, her smile. He'd made it through so much because of her help and support.

"We're not breakin' up, are we?" He asked before he could hold the words in.  
She looked at him, putting her hand on his cheek. "No, of course not, Lucas."

Tears stained her face. As her thumb caressed his cheek, he gazed into her sad eyes. Her deep, amazing, stunning brown eyes that he'd go God knows how long without seeing whenever she moved away. He kissed her alluring lips, fearing that it was one of the few kisses they had left.

Once their kiss broke, she continued. "I could never break up with you. I'll do anything to make us work."  
"Me, too, Pers. I'll do anythin' I can." He rested his forehead against hers. "Why are you movin', anyway? What's goin' on?"  
Persephone's face fell and her eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring as she spoke. "My dad got a job in Baltimore."  
"Why am I not surprised? It's just like Ronald to fuck up a good thing."  
Her voice cracked as she spoke, "I swear, he thinks the whole goddamned world should revolve around him — fuck whatever me and Mom want."

Once the words finished leaving her lips, she cried more, her face back in his chest. He held her close, wishing he never had to let her go.

* * *

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	17. The More They Stay the Same

_All characters involved in the following sex scene are 18 years of age or older.  
_

* * *

_**I**_t was hard not to be lonely. Though he talked to Persephone every day over texts, he felt alone. Always busy, Pers rarely ever had time for more than a few words, and they were all speech-to-text and fucked up because of it. Sometimes, it didn't feel like he was talking to her at all. When did they last talk over the phone? When did they last get on webcam together? Or enjoy a night of fun as best as they could with their cameras and microphones?

He couldn't stand the loneliness anymore and his days were often spent obsessively checking his messages to her, despite knowing nothing had been sent.

Lucas checked their last messages again. _'What are you doing tonight?'_ from him, sent an hour ago. Nothing after that. The nagging fear that he'd been replaced burrowed into his mind, implanting itself, causing him to fiddle mindlessly with his phone as a distraction. But her with another guy crept into his imagination and refused to leave. Was he stupid for not trying to move on, too? Or was he stupid for thinking she'd do that to him, after four years of loyalty?

Four years… Sometimes, when he thought of that number, he was amazed that someone had lasted that long with him. She was something special and it pained him that he'd think she would betray what they have. But then again, she was something special, and surely any guy could see that.

Her unique notification sounded off on his phone — the classic "all righty then" line from those stupidily funny Ace Ventura movies she liked so much — and he hurriedly checked the message. His heart fell and his stomach soured when he read her response.

_'Sorry can't talk I got hams on training'_

Hams on training? Hands-on training, probably. Damn speech-to-text, she was most likely driving. He decided not to bother her and risk her getting into an accident. Besides, she clearly didn't care enough about him to give a shit about his response.

"Lucas," Jack said. "Off your phone at the table."  
He'd almost forgotten he was in the dining room. Lucas put his phone in his pocket, then picked at his food.  
"You've barely touched your dinner," his mom said.  
"Not hungry," he muttered, slouching in his chair with one hand still on his phone.  
"You said the same thing yesterday."  
Zoe said, "No wonder you're so skinny."  
Lucas wasn't sure exactly what about her statement made him so angry but he found himself snapping back. "_Shut up_, Zoe."  
Zoe sneered but the old man was the first to jump in to diffuse the situation. "All right, all right, that's enough. No arguing at the dinner table."  
"Tell _her_ to get off my ass, then," Lucas spat.  
"Lucas, I said that's enough. An' get your hand outta your pocket an' off your phone."  
"But I'm tryna make plans."  
The old man spoke calmly, but sternly. "And we're all tryin' ta have a nice family dinner."  
"I don' see why we even gotta have 'family dinner' anymore. I'm twenny-one, Zoe's nineteen — if ya ain't realized it yet, we're both too old fer this."  
"Your mother cooks perfectly good food for the whole family ta eat. Don'chu dare disrespect her."  
"I feel like a fuckin' kid."  
"Watch your mouth."  
"Or what? Gonna fuckin' ground me?"  
"This is the last time I'm gonna tell ya ta stop," Jack said, voice finally raising. "You live under my roof an' my rules — I'm tired a' you bein' disrespectful ta me an' your mother."

The table went quiet and Lucas leaned back in his chair. He scowled at his plate full of food. Now he had even less of an appetite.

* * *

It was bittersweet, waking up to Persephone's text message on April's early morning.

_'Happy birthday, gorgeous! Got a busy day ahead of me but I'll call you tonight at 8. And you should be getting a surprise soon. Love you!'_

He would've loved to talk to her for longer than just an hour or so, which would probably be all the time he'd get since she always crashed early so she could wake up at an ungodly hour. But at least he'd get to talk to her again and have a legitimate conversation. It'd been too long since he last heard her voice.

He treated every hour like it could possibly have been 8 PM. In a way, he felt pathetic with his phone constantly in his hand as though Persephone would call him three hours earlier than she said she could, but he didn't give a shit. It was his birthday and he would sit around on his phone waiting for a call as long as he damn well pleased.

He didn't want to get into an argument with the old man on his birthday so he ate his dinner fast enough that he nearly made himself sick, just so he could go back to being on his phone without interruption. Before he could leave the dining room, Zoe brought out a triple-layer cake.

Zoe was lucky. She got to see Judith any time she wanted, got to talk to her on the phone all night (some mornings, she was just like him: barely able to function). He envied his sister in that respect. But would Zoe and Judith end up like him and Persephone in a few years? God, getting older sucked.

Stuck for a while longer, he had cake and a couple of presents shoved into his face. Dinner still sat unwell on his stomach but he powered down a slice of cake anyway (which tasted delicious). He grabbed a handful of cake and fed it to Diane, seeing as she'd drooled a huge puddle on the floor waiting for some. After being set free, he headed back to his room, a slice of cake on a plate in hand, a birthday card under his arm, and a toolbox held in his fist. Diane followed him, sniffing at the food.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Just as he dropped his stuff off and his alarm clock turned to 8 PM, his cell rang. Lucas scoured through in his pocket, whipping out his phone so fast that it slipped out of his hands and he had to do a little jig in order to catch it. He flipped it over to answer Persephone's call.

"Happy birthday, Lucas!"

She could've said almost anything and it would've made Lucas smile. He'd missed her voice so damn much.

"Thanks, Pers."  
"You better have gotten some damn good presents."  
He laughed out of his nose. "Nope. Just this call."  
"Don't milk it," she said, a smile obvious upon her lips. To see that smile would've made his birthday complete.  
"Wish I was. Ma n' Dad gave me tools, Zoe made a big-ass cake, n' that was pretty much it. Oh, n' Uncle Joe mailed me a twenny-five dollar gift card to fuckin' Walmart. Cheapskate."

They had a good laugh at this. A real good laugh — Lucas hadn't laughed in a long time. For the night, he forgot all about his anger and the bitter feelings he'd been holding toward her. Hearing Pers made it all okay. A night he would've otherwise spent holed-up in his room staring listlessly at a computer or phone screen, instead had him petting Diane and chatting with Persephone, like old times.

He'd longed for the old days, ached to relive them as they had been that evening, and knew misery would return after their conversation ended. But he kept those intrusive thoughts at bay, happy to hear her voice and share in her jokes. He was particularly giddy that night, giggling as Persephone talked to Diane through the phone. The retriever's ears perked and her head cocked from side-to-side, hearing the familiar voice and seeming unable to understand where it came from.

They switched to video call when Persephone made it back home, then used their computers to enjoy a little sexy webcam fun that night. He loved every moment. His birthday ended on a high note. Even after their conversation ended around 11 PM — on Persephone's end, anyway, seeing as she'd fallen asleep on her bed with the webcam still running — Lucas's smile refused to fade. He stayed on the line with her. The computer rested on the bed beside him so he could see her as he got comfortable. He hooked his phone up to the laptop to charge it, and reread what she'd texted him: _'And you should be getting a surprise soon'_. He eagerly awaited whatever it was.

* * *

Weeks later, and communication went back to normal, with him getting a text message or two maybe once a day, mostly her saying they'd talk more often if she wasn't so busy. His mood had gone back to normal, too, taking a pessimistic and nihilistic plummet. He started feeling like a pissed off teenager again.

From his bed, he looked at the clock. 6 PM. His mom would flip if he didn't eat dinner (again) and he wanted to avoid another confrontation with Jack. He plodded his way to the main house, feeling like he needed to drag his feet to get them to cooperate. Diane greeted him in the yard as a friendly face that he hadn't paid much attention to lately. He bent down onto a knee to pet her long fur.

"Sorry, girl. Guess I haven' been a very good dad lately, huh?"

Diane licked his face, tail wagging so fast that it acted as an appreciated fan in the muggy Louisiana heat. Such a forgiving girl. He'd be sure to give her a good bit of his food. He led her to the dining room to meet with the rest of the family, stomach neither full nor empty — he simply wasn't hungry; more interested in getting back to his laptop. A lot of ideas remained outlined on there from his youth, contraptions he'd garnered interest in once again, but for the time, he knew he needed to appease the old man and his mom.

When he crossed the double doors' threshold into the dining room, he saw Jack and Zoe at the table. His mom strolled through with a large pot of what smelled like gumbo. She set it on the table and, before she took her own seat, smiled at him.

"Oh, good, you're here," she said sweetly, sweeping across the room to the serving window. She grabbed something and returned to him. "Package came for you, Lucas."

She handed him a thick rectangular box covered in black and white plaid wrapping paper; little red hearts between bits of the pattern. The aesthetic was enough for him to know exactly who'd sent it, and it seemed his mom knew as well as she looked up at him with a very sad, sympathetic smile. Nothing more needed to be said. He turned away from dinner and strode back to his room, Diane in tow.

The trip to his room went by in a blur. Next thing he knew, he'd shut and locked the door behind him, barely registering that Diane had hopped onto his bed and rolled herself up in his sheets. He plopped onto the floor cross-legged and carefully opened the wrapping paper, sure to keep it pristine and folded.

Nothing of note on the box; just brown cardboard, flat with no features whatsoever. The contents inside felt loose and had made noise as he'd rushed to his bedroom. A jigsaw puzzle, perhaps? He opened it and over the contents sat another piece of cardboard. Taped to it was a little white note, turned and folded so all he could see was his name. He gently removed it, the paper unfolding itself as he read.

_'Hi, Lucas. I know things haven't been going so great for us lately. With my parents and college, I barely have time for myself. Not being able to see you, rarely having time to chat aside from just a few text messages; it's been hard. I miss you so much, and I'm always thinking about you. I hope you're thinking about me, too._

_"But what the fuck's in the box?" you're probably asking (don't even get me started on how much I miss your voice). It's a puzzle. A 5,000 piece puzzle, but you need to keep it hidden from your family. I think you'll know why once you see it. No reference pictures, you won't need them. I also took all the edges and kept them, to make it more difficult for you. Because I love you._

_No, really, I love you. So much. Just know how much you mean to me and how much I miss you every single day. I love you, Lucas. Don't ever forget.'_

He held the paper close to him, cradling it like it was Persephone herself. It was the closest he'd been to her in such a long time. He could almost smell her scent on it, or perhaps that was just his mind playing tricks. Swallowing the emotions bubbling up inside him, he curiously moved the sheet of cardboard out of the way. Indeed, he instantly knew why he needed to keep it hidden.

The pieces of the puzzle were of her. Nude.

No mistaking it, he saw in the scattered pieces her bare skin. His pants tightened as he got the fastest boner he'd had in months.

"This is the best fucking present ever."

It sure was more difficult to decide where to start, as she really had taken all the edge pieces away. He wouldn't be able to decipher where each edge went without having the image in his head. But what a beautiful, welcome image.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in his room working on the puzzle, but he'd started with her face — her left eye — and worked his way out. With her whole face finished, he found himself looking at her for a while, examining every detail. He'd not seen her face since his birthday. With 30 hours a week of hands-on training alongside medical school, she rarely had time to spend with him.

His fingers caressed her puzzle self's cheek, other arm keeping his knees close as he hunched over them, gazing at her. Taking a deep breath, he continued work on the puzzle, going down her body to her breasts. She had a hand clutching one, giving him a great view.

Sex soon blossomed in his mind, distracting him from his other thoughts as he imagined groping her breasts and putting his face in between them like they were soft, squishy pillows. He sat back in a cross-legged position, lap open so he wouldn't squish his hard and eager cock. His right hand absentmindedly brushed the head bulging underneath his pants as he recreated her breasts.

* * *

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* * *

His head swam, disoriented, with the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. He barely heard how vocal he was being as another few spurts of cum snuck up on him, making him gasp in pleasure, legs shuddering, eyes rolling up under his eyelids.

When it was all over, he couldn't move. Muscles twitched involuntarily, but that was it. Once he regained control of his body, he looked down to see what he came in (and the size of his load), grimacing when he realized it was his hoodie.

"Crap."


	18. The Accident

_**H**_ow long had it been since she last saw Lucas's face? It was 2014 — it felt like she'd lived in Baltimore for decades, though it had only been about two years. It'd all gone wrong then, and everything had gotten worse.

Persephone hadn't been able to focus on her classes. Everything went by in such a blur that she was sure she'd been left behind. Her drive home was fuzzy as well. She remembered needing to pull over and breathe out a panic attack, after-images playing in her head, though she'd not been witness to the events. They were false images her brain invented.

She couldn't wait to get back to her webcam that night. It had been a week since she answered Lucas's calls and texts, unable to bring herself to face him after all she'd gone through. She hoped he would forgive her silence, lend her the ear she desperately needed. After tearing through her living room, past a uselessly drunk and unconscious Terry on the couch, she made it upstairs and slammed her bedroom door behind her. She whipped out her phone. Nothing new from Lucas today — no texts, no calls. He was either mad or giving her space, she didn't know, but she refused to ponder it for long before calling him.

It rang and rang.  
And rang.

He wasn't going to answer, was he? But when her hope dwindled and she was about to hang up, the phone clicked.

"Pers, where have you been?"

His voice and unique cadence was so beautiful to her in that moment of pure despair.

"I'm so sorry, Lucas, I should've been talking to you, but—"  
"I know classes 'r rough but I been tryin' t' make time fer _you_. Why can' you do the same—"  
"Lucas, my dad died."

Silence; brief lament, and some reticence of her part. Her hand gripped the phone tighter, any words stolen. Then his soothing voice replied,

"I… I'm sorry, Pers."  
"Yeah… Can we get on video call? I wanna see you."

A few minutes later, she got on her computer, loaded up their video call, and found herself staring into Lucas's cathartic face. The familiarity of his slim features, prominent cheekbones, and tired eyes relaxed her. She wished she could hold him and cry, but she choked back her tears as she explained what had happened. Everything from her father dying, to attending his funeral the previous evening, to Terry's behavior.

"She's already starting to pawn shit," she vented. "We don't even have a t.v. anymore. This house is too expensive for us to keep, so we're probably gonna move to a shelter."  
"A shelter? That's really the best y'all got?"  
"With Terry this incapacitated, there's nothing else we can do. Dad was the one with all the money. She hasn't had a job in years. I'm gonna have to quit college."  
"Woah, woah, woah," Lucas said, hands up to get her to stop. "Ya can't do that right now, Pers. You been so excited 'bout college n' tryna be a doctor — a _surgeon_. Ya can still use yer scholarship t' go t' college."  
"But Lucas, I can't have a full-time job_ and_ go to college."  
"Yer gonna set yerself back if ya stop now."

Persephone felt on the verge of tears. She leaned forward, elbows on her desk, hands hiding her face. He was right, but she didn't know what else to do. Without money, they'd have no choice but to go to a shelter, and she was torn between a job or her college career. If she kept going to college, who knows where she and Terry would wind up until she was able to get paid as a surgeon. And with her father gone, she felt her desire to become a surgeon dwindling. In a way, he'd been the driving force. The fact that he went for anything and had great success made her also want to be successful. He was a jackass all right, but, without him, she and Terry were falling apart. Without him, she wouldn't be who she is.

"Pers?" Lucas asked softly, his voice muffled to her preoccupied mind. "Ya all right?"  
Persephone shook her head, still covering her face. Her eyes stung with tears but she pushed them back before they could be set free. She looked at him, voice breaking as she spoke. "I just wanna fucking be with you, Lucas. I can't take this anymore — I can't deal with this. Dammit, why did we have to leave Louisiana? None of this would've happened. Or at least if it did, I would still have you."

His mouth opened like he was going to say something but then immediately closed it again. Not that she could blame him for being speechless. When everything happened last week, she'd been speechless, too. Everything felt like a fucked up nightmare, his funeral yesterday hadn't seemed real, the car accident wasn't real.

The needle Persephone had found in the bathroom wasn't real, either, otherwise Terry…

She didn't give Lucas a chance to articulate his thoughts and ranted about Terry's behavior; about the needle and syringe, about the trash can filled with beer bottles, about wine bottles littering the kitchen counters, and about vodka taking up most of the space in their freezer.

She could've sat there venting about her feelings all night, and for the most part she did. For the rest of the evening, she forwent dinner and just talked to him; about Terry, about school, about her hopelessness. And he listened. As long as she spoke, he listened, and when she felt like she could take no more and went quiet, he would offer her his comfort and love. It was comfort and love that she desperately needed.

He was so close to her, and yet felt so far away.

* * *

Weeks later, one early March evening, Persephone rushed around the kitchen of their shitty apartment, stirring this and that. If her food didn't cook faster, she'd be late for her dinner date. She seasoned her sauce haphazardly and kept Lucas updated on the progress of her meal. He'd already finished his and it would be getting cold if she didn't hurry the hell up.

As the noodles for her spaghetti cooked, she looked in on Terry (to make sure the addict was still breathing) who'd passed out on the couch after spending the day feeling sorry for herself. Bruises down her arms indicated that she'd probably been shooting heroin — which explained why Persephone kept finding needles in the trashcans — and there was a cut on her swollen bottom lip from who knows what. She didn't want to believe that Terry had been hit by some guy, maybe her drug dealer, but it was a very real possibility. Still, she knew Terry's business was her own, not to mention the fact that she had no real time to make for anyone else aside from Lucas.

Once all the food finished, she took her plate and a cup of white grape juice to her room. She made do with the bleak, white-walled room filled with boxes. The most important pieces of furniture were in place already; all that she needed: her bed, her desk, a dresser, and her computer. Stuff that she enjoyed, stuff she'd collected back in Chicago, were still in those boxes from Dulvey, aside from Lucas's Ouija board necklace which she wore every day, today being no exception.

She set her dinner on the desk to free up her hands and check if her webcam was set up from the last time they'd used it. Ever since her father's death, she'd told herself that she would make more time for Lucas, so she'd been using her webcam often. The thought of losing Lucas, too, was unbearable. She wanted to make the most of their time together, just in case something outside of her control happened again. Tonight was his night and she wanted it to be as romantic as possible.

To up the romance, she lit a few candles, then turned on her computer, opened her video calling program, and texted Lucas that she was ready. His face soon popped up on her screen, plate of spaghetti in front of him and a beer. He'd pulled a seat up to sit at his dresser which he used as a table and Persephone saw the candlelight in the background. He apparently had the same idea; wasn't called a 'date' for nothing.

"Man," he said, "yer spaghetti looks so much better than mine. I dunno how t' cook n' now the kitchen's a damn mess."  
Persephone laughed. "Yeah, so's mine. It'll probably be a mess for the next few days."

Diane poked her head up in the background from his bed, staring directly at Lucas's food. She made a beeline for it, knocking his arm up and out of her way with her eagerly sniffing nose.

"Well hello, Yer Majesty," said Lucas.  
Persephone could only see Diane's eyes and nose sticking up above the dresser. "That dog loves to eat."  
Lucas twirled some spaghetti onto his fork and fed it to Diane. "Wonder why she always bothers me for food."  
"We're gonna have to call Sherlock Holmes to solve _that_ mystery."

Diane prompted Persephone to ask about the rest of the family. Zoe had apparently come out to their parents about Judith, Marguerite had quit drinking after Lucas told them about Terry (even though she was never really a drinker), and Jack was… Well, Jack, like always. Diane wouldn't stop nudging Lucas's arm during his entire family talk, so he tried to make her go lay down. She jumped around playfully, barking, growling, and vocalizing, eyes darting from Lucas to his food.

"She don' wanna leave 'long as there's food."  
Persephone giggled. "Aw, she's just mad I'm the third-wheel. Don't worry, Diane,_ I'll_ leave."  
"Really, Pers, y'all 'r just ruinin' my date with Diane."

He eventually did convince Diane to go lay on his bed but not before a lot of complaining from the vocal pup. Even when she did listen, she threw a tantrum and pushed both his pillow and her own to the floor.

Lucas shook his head. "That dog is just crazy."  
"She loves you and it's precious."  
"Ya only think she's cute 'cuz ya don' live with 'er."  
"I wish I did. I'd give anything for Diane to hound me for attention."

They stopped chatting for a bit so they could eat. Persephone noticed that Lucas kept looking at her intently, like he was pondering something behind his thoughtful blue eyes. Judging by all the times he held down a smile, she knew it would be something good, and she had to try to resist asking about it. When ready, he'd tell her. And eventually, after a few gulps of beer, he said,

"There's somethin' I wanna tell ya."  
"You have five other girlfriends?"  
"No, no. Just the one." They both enjoyed a good laugh at this but Lucas quickly brought the conversation back on track. "Actually, I was thinkin' I didn' wanna tell ya this, 'cuz I didn' wanna get yer hopes up, but fuck it, I can' wait anymore. I got a job this summer — minimum wage, nothin' special — but I got it 'cuz I wanna save up money t' come n' see ya next year."

His words shocked her. Pleasantly, but shocked her regardless. He could be coming down to see her — she could hold him, love him intimately again. After everything that'd happened, she felt desperate for his touch. Just the thought nearly made her cry. She put her fist up to her mouth, index finger's knuckle blocking her quivering lip.

"I would love—" She had to stop. Her voice broke and she didn't want to cry in front of him. Not when the news was good, for once. "Sorry," she said, wiping her face to not only clear her watery eyes but to hopefully regain her composure. "That's amazing news, Lucas. I'd love it."  
He smiled, brow knitting as he watched her try to keep it together. "I would, too. I wanna see you so bad, take ya out on at least one date. No idea how long I'd be down fer."  
"Fuck it, I'd take off summer classes if it meant spending the break with you. Maybe I should save up some money, too, so we can stay at a hotel for a while and get away from Terry."  
"That would probably be a good idea. But don' forget, I didn' want ya gettin' yer hopes—"  
"Right, right." She felt her cheeks tire from her uncontrollable smile and gave herself a few gentle smacks on them, chanting softly, "Don't get your hopes up, don't get your hopes up." But how could she not? Now that she knew the plan would be in motion, she was willing to help make the dream a reality. She giggled giddily. "Dammit, how am I supposed to not get my hopes up?"  
He chuckled. "This is why I didn' wanna tell ya too soon, but I couldn' keep it a secret anymore."  
She cleared her throat, mentally shaking her excitement off and changing the subject. "So how's your job, anyway?"  
"It's all right. Just the shithole fast food joint down the street. But it gets me money."  
"Is it full-time?"  
"Yeah."  
"What're you gonna do when college rolls back around?"  
"Yeeaaah." He scratched his jawline, eyes looking away. "'Bout that. 'Cuz my grades've slipped, I'm not eligible for financial aid anymore. So I won' be goin' t' college this comin' semester."  
Didn't surprise her. He'd been telling her that his grades were slipping. "I'm sorry to hear that."  
"Meh, it's whatever." He shrugged. "I didn' know where I was goin' with it anyway. Changed my major at least four times."  
"That's true. Weren't you going into engineering?"  
"Yeah, I wanna build things. But I dunno what I wanna build that would land me an actual career. Robotics? Nah, I'd rather do what we did in high school n' make things like that giant slingshot."  
"Or a saw made out of knives."

They shared another laugh, and she basked in his company as they ate. He made fun of her for drinking white grape juice "like a kid" and when he subsequently dropped spaghetti sauce on his shirt, she retaliated by making fun of him for being clumsy. But when all was said and done, she was simply filled to the brim with warmth and beamed about being together; happiness that soon manifested itself in other ways. She waited until they were both finished eating.

"So, for dessert," she began, looking directly into his alluring eyes, "how 'bout we get naked?"  
"You don' hafta tell me twice."

* * *

She'd retrieved her toy — a fairly small, but detailed dildo — alongside a bottle of lube. They were both nude, cameras positioned so they could get the best views possible. Lucas wanted to see pretty much everything, so Persephone had to roll her chair back for him. She used it as a stepping stool, turning around so her ass was facing the camera and checked the small box on the top-left side of the screen for her camera feed to ensure he could get a good view. As she bent over the chair and opened her thighs, her pussy lips spread, showing off her tiny, wet opening.

"Now _that_ is what I call dessert," he said gruffly. "Next time I see you, you better hope we ain't in public, 'cuz I won' be able t' stop myself."  
"You are one kinky fucker."  
"You fuckin' love it. Yer pussy's all wet."

So wet that she couldn't stop herself from reaching for her dildo and rubbing it between her thighs and lips, then draining some lube across it and her skin. The toy's lack of body heat chilled her, but its rigid length and breadth called to her poor, unused pussy.

She plunged the dildo inside herself, arm pumping and keeping stride with Lucas as he jerked off his long cock. The difficulty of imagining the tiny dildo as Lucas tried to take away her fun, but it had been so long since she'd played with herself that it felt amazing nonetheless. She made sure to be vocal for him, her neighbors be damned.

"That's it, Pers. I love when yer loud fer me."

She bit her lip — the way he talked to her could make her cum, inciting her to go faster, harder, as deep as she could. It wasn't enough. Looking into Lucas's eyes and remembering how he felt inside of her left her unsatisfied. She tried as hard as she could to return to that feeling but after a particularly rough fucking, she pulled the dildo out, needing something more. For now, though, she wanted to give Lucas a show, so both her hands reached behind and spread herself for him. She saw him jerking off harder as he watched.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Been so long since I got t' see yer pussy gape. Almost disappointin' — my cock can gape ya way bigger than that."  
"I wish you would. I miss your big, fat dick. Especially when you used to fuck my ass." She spread some lube on her asshole and slid the dildo right in, grunting back a start of pain. Compared to Lucas, though, the dildo was easy to take. "Goddamn, you got so deep I thought you would destroy my insides for sure."  
"Y'all keep talkin' like that n' yer gonna make me cum."  
"What a tease." She panted, frantically drilling her ass. "Haven't got to eat your cum in a long time."  
"Cum-guzzlin' slut."  
"Remember how I used to beg for it?"  
"Can' forget. I think about it often enough."

She giggled, pulling the dildo out and showing her now gaping asshole. He murmured an expletive, staring intently and working himself hard. He didn't have any toys of his own — no fleshlight, not even cock rings — just his hand and a little lube leftover from their physical days. But it seemed to be enough. Persephone observed his sexual response and eagerly watched it escalate. His breathing quickened, his eyes relaxed, and his open mouth was pulled into a grin. He sat right on the cusp of climax, she could tell by his breathing alone.

"Goddamn, Lucas, you're so cute when you're about to cum."  
"Shut up."

She chuckled a low, sexual chuckle, sending him instantly to his peak. He grabbed a towel he'd had off-screen and came inside it, breathing heavily as he did. Persephone turned around to face the computer, fingers toying with her clit as she ogled his orgasm. A few seconds after he calmed down, she said,

"Show me how big your load is."

That's probably why he'd gotten a black towel. The pool of white cum and the droplets all around shown easily in the light of his screen. And holy hell was it a big load. She really earned the name 'cum-guzzlin' slut' — the urge to taste him drove her lust. It took only a few moments of looking at his cum and wishing her mouth could've been the recipient for her to reach her much-needed peak.

* * *

All her candles had been blown out and she'd washed herself up to get ready for bed, while Lucas did the same on his end. She struggled somewhat to set up her bed near her desktop so she could be face-to-face with him as she rested against her pillow, but it was so fucking worth it. Seeing him comfortable in his bed with Diane snuggled up behind him was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

And she got to hear his gorgeous and soothing voice. Damn she loved that accent, his inflections, and vocabulary. She was sure to tell him that, tell him that she missed being together, stomach and heart fluttering when he told her how he felt the same.

Falling asleep against her will, her tired mind blurred thoughts together as she spoke.

"Don't wanna sleep. Sleep is stupid, wanna talk to you."  
"Pers," he said, soft but firm. "Go to sleep."  
"But I love you."  
"I love you, too. But ya gotta get up early fer class. Don' worry, we'll talk tomorrow."  
"Fucking school," she mumbled, face rubbing into her pillowcase. "School's dumb — already know how to cut people up. Cut 'em into cubes, for my kebabs."  
Lucas chuckled. "I know ya do. Ya cut people up real good."  
"Damn yeah."  
"Damn yeah?"  
"Fuck right."  
He tried to stifle his giggling, even her tired mind could hear that. He said, "Fuck right, I'm 'onna start usin' that."  
"You can use _me_ instead."  
"First chance I get."  
"Use me like I use my scalpel."  
"N' how do ya use yer scalpel?"  
"Sssharply."  
He went quiet for a moment, then his voice came back in a slightly higher pitch, laughter threatening to overtake. "Pers, ya need t' go t' sleep."  
"Mm'kay. Luff you, baby bear."  
"Baby bear—? Ya know what, never mind. I love you, too, Pers."

These last words before she lost consciousness were the five most beautiful words in the world.

* * *

Thanks to everyone for your patience waiting for this part. I've been dealing with a lot of stress and depression recently, but I really want to get back into this. With that said...

Like my writing? Why not join my Discord server?

discord / epAkymY


	19. Hello, Big Brother

_**L**_ucas sat in the dining room one evening with Zoe, the family getting ready to eat. His mom had dinner prepared and spread on the table. All that was left was waiting for Jack, who listened to the news from the living room. The old man joined them after it ended.

"Supposed to be a hurricane coming in soon," he said, taking a seat.  
His mom questioned, "Oh dear, you mean that storm the news has been watching?"  
"The very same. An' they said it's gotten worse. Category 3, at least. Lucas, me an' you gonna have to seal windows an' doors, clean out the gutters, check the pump — you know the drill."  
"Yep," Lucas replied shortly.

Fuck. Sounded like a huge workload that he didn't feel like dealing with. He entertained Jack listing off their chores and talking about hurricane safety, but didn't pay much attention as he ate. Louisiana's bayou'd had plenty of bad storms over the years, especially seeing as it was early October, and they'd always been a pain in the ass, with the old house leaking from every possible seam. Last year in September, the guest house basement had been completely flooded out. What fun that was, wallowing around in the muck with the old man, trying to empty the damn thing with a specialized hose. With any luck, the guest house would just collapse in on itself and he would never have to worry about it again.

After dinner, the family returned to the living room to put on the news in hopes of hearing more about the storm. Lucas sat in the corner with Diane, one arm around the dog as he got on his phone and texted Persephone.

_'Supposed to be a hurricane rolling through soon.'_

He read their last text messages from that morning while he waited. She'd texted him first; a cute, if not odd greeting.

_'Good morning, papa wolf!'_  
To which he'd followed up, _'Morning gorgeous, wtf is a papa wolf?'_  
He chuckled when he read her response for the second time._ 'You, cuz you're all scruffy and fierce'_  
_'You are a weird one'_  
_'Gotta get my weirdness quota in before Saturday's hands-on training'_

Ah, hands-on training. Happiness swelled in him to see it spelled correctly. He'd had her undivided attention and he absolutely loved it. Ronald's death had almost been a blessing. Ever since Ronald kicked the bucket in February, Persephone had been finding more time to spend with him. He didn't finish reading their exchange before his phone notified him of a new message.

_'A hurricane?'_  
_'Yep, category 3 according to Jack.'_  
_'Are you guys going to be okay?'_  
_'Hope so. You know how the storms round here get, but the news just suggested that everyone in the southern parishes evacuate.'_  
_'Holy shit, are you going to?'_  
_'Probably not. Momma and the old man are way too stubborn.'_

He waited again. She didn't text him back, not even after 5 minutes had passed. It was 7 PM for him, so 8 for her. Probably making dinner for herself and Terry.

Thinking about her relationship with Terry prompted him to quell his anticipation by scrolling back up through their messages. He reread one she'd sent him about a week beforehand when she'd vented to him after a day of almost complete silence.

_'Sorry I couldn't talk much today. Terry called me during class and the motherfucker was threatening to kill herself. I had to call 911 thinking she'd do it and I rushed back home. Turns out, she took almost an entire 2 weeks worth of her happy pills that morning, so I was with her at the hospital all damn day. They're keeping her overnight. Now I'm back at the stupid welfare house. Feels so empty.'_

Hopefully, something like that wasn't going on at that very moment. Terry had been a handful this past year. When Ronald had died, Terry'd pawned almost everything to fuel her addiction and Persephone had kept the house(s) barren since then. Terry'd claimed to never be on anything aside from her medication and booze, but neither he nor Pers believed her.

His phone's notification went off.

_'No way, they can't expect you to just hold down the fort.'_  
_'That's exactly what they're expecting. Gonna have to seal windows and shit all day tomorrow. What a way to spend my weekend.'_

October 5th was when the hurricane was supposed to hit. It was a Sunday and, more importantly, 2 weeks before Persephone's birthday. No way he was going to forget such an important date, no matter how hectic it got.

She responded,_ 'Sounds like it'll suck. I gotta eat and shower before bed, but I'll text you later. Stay safe. Love you.'_  
_'I will. Love you, momma wolf.'_

* * *

By the time the hurricane reached Louisiana's shores, it had been raised to category 4. The flooding was the worst part. Everyone, Zoe and his mom included, had to tend to leaks: emptying buckets, mopping up floors, resealing windows from failed or overworked sealants; the works.

Their power had gone out for three days, and his phone battery had died moments after he'd warned Persephone that it was about to happen. Three whole days of no Pers had been a fucking nightmare but he'd managed it. After all, so much work had to be done that it'd kept him quite distracted.

Once the storm had passed and the power had come back on, he let his phone charge and went out to help the old man check the damages. Jack headed to the old house, leaving Lucas to check the boathouse.

The soggy wooden planks going out to the boathouse were so rotted from weather exposure that Lucas purposefully stepped over certain ones. Still, that didn't prevent him from nearly taking a tumble into the bayou when he stepped upon one that didn't look so worse for wear, which sent his foot right through it as though it was tissue paper. Very splintery tissue paper. He'd have to come back out with boards and tools to redo some of the docks. Whoopie. The boathouse itself didn't look so bad, though. It reeked of swamp just like normal and the inside had dried out nicely, including the stairs that led up above the door to the docking area.

They never used the damn thing but for shits and giggles, and to appease Jack so the old man would get off his back, he scaled down the ladder, into the ankle-deep layer of mucky water, and checked the dock outside. It all appeared normal, if not waterlogged and green with algae. There was an old boat still tied up and ready for use that it would probably never get.

Lucas peered around at the trees out in the swamp — none of them had downed, somehow — and the cloudy skies above. Grey as hell, but a parting in the clouds let the sun shine through, illuminating the area. The bayou was so bright, in fact, that he swore he saw something in the distance. Far out there, nestled between the treetops, loomed a silhouette of something tall.

That old Pers-style curiosity wriggled its way into his mind. It must have rubbed off on him good, given that an urge to ride the little motorized boat out there and take a gander sent him on his way. When he did, he was amazed at what he found.

* * *

"A boat?" Jack questioned back at the main house during lunch.  
"Not just a boat — a _huge_ tanker," Lucas explained.

There was so much shit to do around the house, however, that he and Jack couldn't check it out until the next day. It weighed on his mind what he'd seen. It looked like the massive ship had been cracked in several pieces, with all sorts of piping and gnarled metal jutting out of the wreckage. He'd wanted to explore it himself but something told him to get back-up beforehand — some kind of warning in his brain that prompted him to think of Pers and how she'd feel if anything happened to him. As such, he didn't see too much before heading home to tell the old man. And after lunch, he texted Persephone to explain to her that he was okay and what he'd found.

_'Wow,'_ she'd replied,_ 'all I've found over the past few days has been roadkill and you find a cool busted up ship. Keep me updated, stay safe.'_

* * *

In the early afternoon the next day, Lucas hurried through his bigger chores to get to the ship faster. He helped Jack, rushing the old man along until they steered the boat back to the huge tanker.

The whole ship really had been split apart and seeing it the second time still ran a shock through him. It had somehow washed up so close to home from the Gulf, probably due to the immense flooding and strong winds. But how did it get completely destroyed? Like it had exploded in two places.

As they drew closer, staring up at the tanker, their small boat bumped something. He scanned the water and his heart skipped a beat. It was a person. Just floating there.

"Oh my—…" Jack trailed off. Then he quickly reached in and grabbed her by the arm. "Lucas, get 'er other arm an' help me get 'er in the boat."

He did. Her skin had been coated in a layer of disgusting blackened slime and looked ashen underneath. She was filthy and cold but as they pulled her into their boat, he could see she was still breathing.

"Holy shit," said Lucas. "How long's she been in here?"  
Jack turned the boat around. "I have no idea — to think she'd be alive, even since yesterday."  
"Gotta be longer. The hurricane was two days ago n' I think that's how that tanker got here."  
"You may be right about that. I'm gonna call the authorities when I get back home, then come out an' see if I find any other survivors. I want you to stay home, keep an eye on everythin', help your mother, an' wait for the police to show up, all right?"  
Dammit… He'd been hoping to maybe board the ship, but there went that. "All right."

* * *

Back home, Jack carried the soggy, dirty woman to their late grandmother's bedroom inside the recreation room, laying her down on the bed that Zoe made for her. At his mother's suggestion, Lucas brought in a bucket full of warm water and a couple of washcloths. Then he and Jack got kicked out of the room and the old man went off to check the ship again.

Lucas made his way to the kitchen to wait for the cops to show up, engrossed in his phone the whole way.

_'Y'all will never guess what we found near that boat.' _

While he stood by for a response, he brewed some coffee for himself and the rest of the family. Zoe, the type to be summoned by the mere scent of coffee, entered the kitchen in moments, carrying Diane's favorite toy and energetically shaking it to get Diane to follow. She tossed the stuffed monkey through the serving window and into the dining room, and Diane rushed to fetch.

"Your dog doesn't seem to like that woman very much," Zoe said, checking the coffee maker.  
_'What did you find?'_ Persephone responded.  
"Weird, Diane usually loves everybody," he said to Zoe as he texted. _'Some woman. Found her just floating in the bayou. Looked like she was covered in black slime.'_  
"Talkin' to Persephone?" Zoe asked.  
"Yeah."  
"You been a lot easier to deal with ever since you an' her started chattin' more."  
Lucas rolled his eyes. "Thanks."  
Zoe chuckled, retrieving a coffee mug from the cabinet beside him. "Just glad to see you two bein' happy, that's all."  
_'Holy shit, what? That's fucking crazy. What happened?'_  
"Just told Judith 'bout her, too," said Zoe as she peered at Lucas's messages.  
He hid the phone up against his chest, eying her with a glare.  
"Oh, sorry, I forgot that you're scared I'll see Persephone's nudes on your phone."  
"Shut up."

She wasn't exactly wrong — maybe not nudes but he and Pers liked to share… Questionable texts. Having Zoe in the habit of looking over his shoulder wasn't something he wanted.

He told Pers what had happened, and after some back-and-forth, the cops still hadn't shown. Strange. Lucas called emergency services again, saying pretty much verbatim what Jack had told them an hour before. But after yet another torturous hour, no one came. Zoe and his mom called the police several times on the land-line and he and Zoe tried on their phones, but cops never arrived.

He had to work on more chores for that day, cleaning up water from new leaks, resealing a few windows that needed it, and his mom and Zoe would check on the woman every now and again. Last they checked, she'd regained some semblance of consciousness, and called herself Mia. Zoe described her as delirious and scared, especially when they told her emergency services were on their way.

Near dinner time, Zoe put on the news for the storm to see why no one had shown up to help the woman. Lucas and his mother set the table and he looked to the television every now and again, curious about the world outside of his bubble. Maybe the roads were too flooded out and the residual thunderstorms too rough for cops to get to his house.

The old man had been gone for hours, causing his mom to glance toward the dining room doors and wring her hands on her long skirt. It was odd to him, too, that Jack was taking so long. He kept Persephone updated as often as he could.

When he finished setting the table, Lucas shoved himself into the corner near the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall with phone in hand.

"Marguerite!" Jack called from around the corner. "Found another one!"

Lucas's gaze shot up and he saw Jack lumber through the doors, carrying a little girl who couldn't have been more than 10. Great, that boat's causing more trouble than it was worth. He was about to send a message to Persephone when he heard his name.

"We'll put her up in Lucas's old room," his mom said.  
"Oh, come on!" Lucas complained, arms thrown out and fist clenched around his phone. "Can'chu put 'er someplace else?"  
"Hush up, boy," Jack said firmly. "You long out grown that room."

Ugh. He still had that other laptop up there. His newfound "Fuck You" lists were written almost exclusively in the attic. Plus, the drenched little girl dripped with filthy swamp muck. He'd kept his old room exactly the way he and Persephone left it and that little girl was going to ruin the whole thing. No fighting it, though… He wouldn't win, as if Jack and his mom couldn't put the little girl in their room instead, as if he was being completely unreasonable to think that such a sacred area shouldn't be messed with.

When his mom slipped past him to go into the kitchen, he took a seat at the dining room table, texting away.

_'Just found a little girl near the ship, too. wtf'_

He looked through the weather reports to occupy himself. Rain all day, rain all night, more rain tomorrow. How tiring.

Persephone texted him, _'Wtf is right. And the cops still haven't showed up?'_  
_'Nope. I mean, it's storming, but still we called them hours ago'_  
_'What was a little girl doing on that ship, anyway? You said it was a tanker'_  
_'It's definitely not a passenger ship'_

His mom muttered something about heading to her room to fetch the towels she'd not put away yet. Mostly, all Lucas heard was,

"Watch the stew for me, dear."  
"Yep."

He didn't look away from his phone and checked his call list; a call to 911, and a couple calls to South Dulvey Parish police. That wasn't even counting the times he and his family had tried to contact them on their land-line. Persephone's notification went off again.

_'Dunno why, but I got a bad feeling about this'_  
_'Don't worry, Pers. Let's just think about next summer'_

Then the power cut out.

When he tried to text Persephone to let her know, he got an error message telling him he had no service. He sighed gruffly and threw himself back in his chair. As if more things needed to go wrong ever since the damn hurricane. Maybe being able to talk to Pers so often nowadays spoiled him.

He jumped when Diane started going crazy out of nowhere. She barked and growled; vicious, mean, not at all like her. The fur on her back stood as she stared at the windows. Was someone outside? Even if there was, Diane was never much of a watchdog.

Lucas shot up and, at first, sped walked toward the window. But each step made his stomach sink lower and his stride turned to a much slower tread. Pers was right, something was wrong.

By the time he reached the windows, his hands felt clammy from sweat and his heart raced. Diane continued to bark, a crazed sound like he'd never heard from her. She wouldn't behave that way for no reason. With a shaky hand, he pulled a sliver of their Venetian blinds down and peeked outside.

Out there, in the rain, looking directly into his eyes, was the little girl. He ripped his hand away, gasping hard from the rush of adrenaline. What the fuck? She was just passed out, taken upstairs not even five minutes ago. How did she get outside? Why? And how was she exactly where he'd looked? He'd peered out the window eye-level. How could their gazes have met so perfectly?

"Hello, big brother."

His heart leapt hard enough that he thought it was going to come out of his throat. He whipped around to where the small, high-pitched voice came from, his back slamming against the window. There was the little girl, perched atop the kitchen table. Diane went ballistic, sticking close to Lucas and barking and snarling like crazy. He couldn't speak, couldn't scream, couldn't do anything except stare in abject horror. The little girl bore into his eyes, or perhaps even deeper than that.

She giggled maliciously, black tendrils dripped from her body, then flew at him. Memories rushed through him at Mach speed, zipping before his eyes near unintelligibly. He went cold, skin like ice. Just before his vision turned black, he saw lightning in his peripherals, Diane vaulting onto the kitchen table, and heard roaring thunder and dishes shatter as the table splintered to pieces.

His fuzzy mind started coming back. How long had he been out? Hell, he didn't remember what happened in the first place. But Diane licking his cheek was bringing him to reality. His head pounded, body drenched in sweat, and his limbs felt weak as he struggled to push himself up. Diane whimpered and lapped at his hands with her tail between her legs, shivering. He leaned down to pet her and tell her everything was okay (though he wasn't so sure, given he'd passed out), but he stopped and shot straight up again when he noticed the wrecked table and broken dishes. What the hell happened?

His stomach then churned violently and he thought he might puke. The longer he lingered, shocked, on his sickened stomach, the worse it got, so he dashed to the toilet.

He scrambled up the stairs and toward the bathroom, but as he reached the door, something wrenched his shoulders from around the corner and threw him down the hall. He landed flat on his stomach and groaned from the jolt of pain, amazed he hadn't been sick immediately.

That something then grabbed him by his jacket's hood and ripped him down the hall a ways before his disoriented body fought back. He thrashed away from whatever had him and threw himself to his feet, flipping back his hood to face the attacker.

He stammered, "Wha… W-What the fuck?"

Jack reared back and unleashed a powerful punch to his jaw. The heavy hit made him delirious, dizzy enough that he fell on his ass. Jack seized him by the ankles and yanked him down the hall.

"What the hell, Dad!?" Lucas shouted, struggling to flip around so he could claw himself free.  
"Oh, hush, boy! Don'cha wanna play with your new sister?"

Jack dragged him to his old room, where that little girl messed the place up with her muck. His new sister? What the fuck was Jack talking about? What the fuck was Jack doing to him!? And those words, that little girl… She'd been there, on the kitchen table, laughing and calling him 'brother'. What the fuck was wrong with her!?

Lucas kicked wildly, flailing at the cusp of his door. When Jack went to open it, he ripped an ankle free and stomped as hard as he could into Jack's groin. Jack dropped him and he whirled around, trying to scramble onto his hands and knees. But that was as far as he got before Jack's boot crushed his back, knocking the wind out of him and slamming him into the floor. Jack ripped him up by the foot again and he thrashed in his grasp.

"Get off me! Get the fuck off me, old man!"

Jack only laughed and spun Lucas onto his back, tearing him into his old room so fast that the ceiling rushed by his vision. The door slammed shut as Lucas tried once again to get to this feet. Jack kicked him in the side with enough force that Lucas heard a bone crack, though the adrenaline made him numb to the pain.

His arms were forced behind him by the old man's abnormally strong grip and he was made to sit upright before that same little girl. She still looked filthy, dripping black goop. A malevolent smile held fast on her face as she giggled.

"Hi again, big brother."

Then she vomited.

The same black goop spewed from her mouth, smelling like bile and mildew and rotted fruit. It landed all over him, all over the floor, and down his hoodie. A scream caught in his throat. His voice was gone as he saw his vomit-covered body, blackened with the horrific fluids. He surely was going to be sick, too.

Then the vomit twitched and moved and pulsated as though alive. It quickly grew like disgusting roots, scaling up his body and neck. His voice found, he screamed, but it gave the roots a way to enter his mouth. He gagged and sputtered on it, another wave of her warm, putrid vomit splashing against him, into his eyes and mouth and down his throat. He, too, puked. Gagging and choking, his mind blanked, panic having overtaken every sense. He felt himself slipping. His vision faded, then everything stopped as he lost consciousness.

* * *

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	20. That Which Binds Us

_**P**_ersephone sat next to her mother's corpse, wondering where it all went wrong. Lucas hadn't contacted her for months now — she scanned her history, seeing a slew of text messages from her, but his last one had been sent October 10th: _'Don't worry, Pers. Let's just think about next summer'_.

Her calls never went through, texts never seen. What happened to him? What happened to her? Her father? Her mother?

With her back against the wall, her head lolled over to her shoulder as she looked blankly at Terry's dead body. She was dead by the time Persephone came home a few hours ago. After a long day of school and hands-on training and her part-time job at the stupid supermarket, she thought she'd find Terry drunk. But instead she found Terry hanging from the ceiling, a simple note laying at her feet: 'I'm sorry'. Was that all people could give her any more? Half-answers, leaving more questions. Or was she such a burden and waste of time that people felt okay abandoning her left and right? She'd at least expected it from her parents, but from Lucas?

She'd been trying to convince herself that everything was all right on his end. Maybe he lost his phone and contacts and didn't have a computer and just somehow, someway, could not talk to her at all. But it all seemed like excuses; excuses to dump the chick with baggage. Baggage like Terry's… But Persephone had something greater than Terry: she wasn't a coward. She wasn't going to kill herself and abdicate everything else in her life. She was stronger than that. Stronger than her useless mother who left without a goodbye, stronger than the rope from which she cut her down, stronger than the floor Terry's lifeless body flopped onto, and so much stronger than the apathy Persephone felt during the act.

If only they'd never left Louisiana. Even if her father had died and Terry had killed herself, at least she would've been with Lucas. Maybe then she wouldn't be sitting on the floor, staring at the social media feed on her phone. She took nothing in, only scrolled for the catharsis. The more time passed without tears, the more she felt like a monster. She didn't want to cry, nor did she feel the need to. An emotionless monster, that's what she'd become — that's what her father turned her into, or perhaps she was born this way; a sick joke, regardless. Maybe that's what she was to everyone around her: a sick fucking joke.

She lost herself in memories and fantasies of Lucas. For hours more she sat there, thinking about his eyes, his smile, his voice, the way he made her laugh and love and feel, pleasure from their sex, pain from their arguments, tenderness at his touch, the always present fear of losing him — she relished in it all. At least she was human around him.

She wound up calling the police eventually. Even with evidence so clear, she was taken in for questioning. She answered with no emotions, largely just 'yes' or 'no'. Due to her strange behavior, she was evaluated by a psychiatrist so everyone involved could put the case to rest. Though declared of sound mind — her testimony credible — her psychiatrist also found her emotionally disturbed and dissociative. What else was new?

She had Terry cremated and didn't host a funeral. College continued after winter break. Most people didn't know about her home life, instead treating her as normal: by avoiding her. She scowled a lot, didn't engage in conversations, and stayed away from people.

All of her free time she dedicated to studying. College's end of the semester drew nearer. Just a couple more years and she'd be done with medical school — her degree was practically in her hand. But that didn't make her happy. She hadn't been happy for eight months now, at least. She forgot what it felt like. But it was easy to focus on school now that she had nothing else in her life — no hobbies, no friends, no family; just classes, work, grocery stores, studying…

She lost the house. Instead of going on the waiting list for another, she stayed at homeless shelters and went to the library on her days off-campus.

When she sat in the crowded gymnasium or out in the rainy spring nights freezing to death, she let her imagination take her back to Lucas. She was getting good at it — her fantasies became more and more vivid in her mind. Maybe she was just losing it but those nights where she and Lucas reunited were some of the best nights of her life. Holding hands, sitting in the sun, getting married, having a family; all the while, her troubles would melt away. She'd become deluded enough to imagine herself going back to Louisiana, seeing everything had been absolutely normal there. Never once did she try to rationalize why Lucas had stopped communications, never once did she even bring it up. She was too damn happy about seeing him to care.

Therein lay her solution: gather up all her money and take the old, uninsured car to Louisiana. She wasn't sure what she'd find whenever she'd arrive, but whatever it was would be better than what she had. The drive from Baltimore to Dulvey would be almost 20 hours and over 1,000 miles, but she felt ready to face the trip. The day after her finals, she refused to wait for the results and ventured out. The finals had been easy, she'd surely passed, though her job was not as set in stone. She ghosted and would probably be fired. But they couldn't fire her if she never came back.

* * *

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